


At Arm's Length

by tact_and_impulse



Series: Alternate Universes [7]
Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Canonical Character Death, Comedy, F/M, Flashbacks, Misunderstandings, Overprotective Father, Romance, now approximately 50 percent more canon, or whatever does happen if Koshijirou is around
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 19:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 55,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8590153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tact_and_impulse/pseuds/tact_and_impulse
Summary: Kamiya Koshijiro returns home to find his daughter living with a redheaded stranger. (Or, if Kaoru's father joined the canon timeline.) Started during Ruroken Week 2016.





	1. Kamiya Koshijiro Returns

He arrived in Tokyo with only his clothes and a shadow where his left arm used to be. An unexpected explosion on the battlefield had resulted in that loss, and the infection had landed him in the hospital. The doctors assumed he wouldn’t survive, but he proved them wrong. He fought back death, knowing that he had to return to his dojo, to his students, and most of all, to his daughter.

Because the last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself, he took the back roads just before dawn. Each step closer to home became achingly familiar, and in a perfectly timed moment, the sun rose above his house’s roof. Light cast over the courtyard and…who was that?

There was a man, draping a blanket over the clothesline, and his red hair glinted in the weak sunshine. In fact, his hair almost matched the very familiar gi he wore.

Koshijiro tensed. Who was this stranger, wearing his clothes? And where was Kaoru?

His second question was promptly answered. The door slid back, and Kaoru stepped out in her kenjutsu uniform. Thankfully, she had not changed at all, and that was some comfort until she spoke. “Kenshin, I said you didn’t have to do the laundry.”

“Well, this one feels he has to do something to earn his keep.” The man’s voice was soft and even.

“You’ve only been here for a week. And I’m not even charging you rent!”

The stranger was living in the house? With Kaoru? And they were on a  _given-name basis?_

He felt lost, as if the world he knew was suddenly replaced with a different one. What had happened while he was gone? He loudly cleared his throat, and they both turned to face him. His daughter immediately paled. “Otou-san?”

“I’m back, Kaoru.” He answered, even if he didn’t feel like it. He partly expected her to run to him or respond with ‘welcome home’, but to his surprise, she fell to her knees in clear shock.

“You’re alive?”

“…you thought I was dead?”

This was definitely not what he expected.

* * *

He pointedly glared at the fidgeting redhead across the table, as Kaoru poured tea for all three of them. There were leftovers from breakfast, which looked presentable. He tried a bite and was pleased; his daughter must have improved in her cooking. At least, this change was welcome. “The rice is good.” Not dry or soggy, and definitely not burned.

“Kenshin made it.” Kaoru informed.

He had to swallow to keep from choking.

“And will you tell me what happened? The war, the letter about your death, but most importantly, your arm.” She reached over to touch his limp sleeve and whispered. “They really cut it off?”

“I was unconscious when they did, and I woke up with nothing below my shoulder.” At the sight of her stricken face, he added. “There are phantom pains now and then, but I survived a nasty fever. I’m alright now, and I’m home at last.” When she was little, he patted her head to comfort her, and he felt a twinge in his shoulder. His body remembered the motion, even though it could no longer carry it out. “So what’s this about a letter?”

She blinked. “Oh, that’s right. I got a letter from your commanding officer, saying that you…didn’t make it. They said they would send the body, which they didn’t because there wasn’t a body to begin with!” Her voice had steadily increased in volume. “How could they send a false notice like that?”

“They moved on without me, so most likely, they didn’t realize I survived the blast that took my arm. They must have thought I was good as dead and sent it anyway.”

“But still, we had a funeral for you and everything! Then, the rumors started and the students left. I…I thought I was alone.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I didn’t realize what everyone else would have thought; if I had, I would have tried to recover faster. But it looks like you weren’t alone after all.” He turned towards the stranger, who nervously inclined his head.

“This one is Himura Kenshin. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Kenshin helped me out, when the dojo was in trouble. He doesn’t have a home, so I offered him a place to stay. He’s just a boarder, we’ve had them before.”

She had never referred to the other boarders by their given name. “I see you’ve made yourself at home, Himura-san.”

“Oro, this one didn’t mean to intrude. Or wear your clothes, but this one will return them.” He tugged at the front of the red gi.

“Keep them, my daughter can make her own choices. If she gave them to you, so be it; I won’t spoil her kindness.”

“Indeed, she has been very kind to this one.” He beamed at her, and to Koshijiro’s shock, she blushed. Like a girl. Like a girl  _in love_.

“Like I said, you were the one who helped me, and you do the housework too. All I’ve done is given you a roof over your head and a place at the table.”

“And a warm futon. That’s what this one has missed the most, so this one is especially thankful for that.”

“W-well, of course.”

At this, Koshijiro’s thoughts went down an extremely slippery slope, and anger flooded him. While Kaoru could decide things on her own, she was still young. How dare this man, good cook or not, take advantage of her like that?!

The table clattered as he stood up, and his daughter called out his name just before he swung a right hook at Himura. The man dodged the blow, rolling away into the wall with a loud thump, as Koshijiro stumbled from throwing off his balance.

“What are you doing?!” Kaoru shouted, running over. No, wait, not to him, to Himura. “Kenshin, are you alright?”

“This one is fine, Kaoru-dono.”

“Kaoru-dono?” Koshijiro repeated, in disbelief. “You refer to her so formally, even after…”

“After what?” His daughter demanded. “Y-you don’t think, that Kenshin and I… _Otou-san!_ ”

And that was when he received an earful.

* * *

“Where did I go wrong, Kyoko?” He muttered in front of the altar. His late wife’s visage, portrayed in a few strokes of ink, stared solemnly back at him. “I left her alone for six months, and she’s gone and fallen in love with a passing stranger.”

Kaoru had retold last week’s encounter, red-faced and scowling by the end of it, before stomping off. The dojo was threatened by defaming rumors, when she met Himura. He was only passing by, but he came back to fight off the men. Out of gratitude, she offered him a room, and there had been no futon-sharing or anything of the sort, so don’t even think of kicking him out, Otou-san.

Still, it didn’t stop his suspicions about her affection towards this ‘rurouni’. He hadn’t forgotten how she ran to the redhead first, rather than her own father.

He sighed. “What should I do? You know I was never good at this kind of thing.” If Kyoko was alive, she would have knowingly laughed. She was more in touch with her emotions and could have communicated to Kaoru better. But she wasn’t here, and he had to decipher his daughter’s behavior on his own. Quietly, he bowed to Kyoko’s makeshift memorial before walking into the dojo.

He frowned. There were traces of the fight on the scuffed floor and the scratches on the wall. He glanced up, his frown deepening. Neither of them had told him about the hole in the ceiling! Someone, probably Kaoru, had tried to patch it up with cloth, but he mentally made a note to fix it. Or rather, hire a laborer to fix it.

Not having both arms was irritating.

“Oro, Kamiya-dono, this one didn’t know you were in here. Ah, this one would fix the ceiling, but this one isn’t very good at construction work. Kaoru-dono has already contacted someone to repair it.” He turned his attention to Himura, who approached closer.

“It’s fine.” He said gruffly. “And thank you for telling me. So you protected my daughter with that sword?” He jerked his chin towards the man’s sakabato. “I approve of it; it didn’t shed blood here.”

Himura looked down, nodding. “This one heard that you founded Kamiya Kasshin after fighting in the Bakumatsu.”

“Yes. It’s not a time I like to remember, but in order to never let it happen again, I have to. I remember war every time I step into this dojo, every time I strike with bamboo, and every time I teach. Luckily, it isn’t hard to forget.”

“That’s true.”

“You sound like you know what I’m talking about, but you can’t imagine how horrible it was.”

“This one can, because this one fought in the Bakumatsu, for the Ishin-shishi. Three, four years under the command of Katsura Kogoro. That is why this one carries a sakabato, for this one has also sworn to never take life again.” His hand fell to the hilt of his sword.

He narrowed his eyes. “How old are you?”

“This one is twenty-eight.”

“…do you have a way to confirm that?”

“Oro!”

“Never mind, I believe you.” He paused. “Have you told Kaoru?”

“This one has.”

“And she invited you in, knowing that anyway?”

“She did. Despite how unworthy this one is, Kaoru-dono accepted this one.”

“Then, she really is my daughter.” At this, Himura smiled, but Koshijiro wasn’t finished. “However, that doesn’t mean I’ll accept how lax she’s been.” His hand balled into a fist and he held it in front of him, parallel to his shoulder. “Do you see my arm?”

Himura nodded once, tense and apprehensive.

“Good. This distance is how far you have to stay away from Kaoru. Any closer than that is unacceptable. Understood?”

“…yes?” It sounded like a question.

“Otou-san, what’s going on?!” Kaoru had returned, standing in the doorway. “You’re not going to punch him again, are you?”

He lowered his arm. “I’m only telling him his boundaries, if he wants to stay here. I have a young daughter and a grown man under the same roof; someone has to act as chaperone.”

“Geez, it’s not like anything will happen!”

His mouth twisted. When he was younger, he had studied under a swordsman to gain experience. That swordsman had a daughter, and that was Kyoko. So, he knew about this firsthand, and in fact, it was the very reason he started this discussion! Just as he was about to voice this, Himura spoke.

“This one can obey that.”

“Kenshin!”

“This one is only a rurouni, an outsider.” He shrugged. “This one is happy enough to stay, that is all. With that said, this one has to prepare lunch. Kaoru-dono, will you help this one? It has a while since Kamiya-dono has eaten at home.”

She looked between the two of them, before throwing her hands up. “No more fighting, that’s the only thing I ask. Otou-san, you have to relax, so just wait until we’re finished cooking. Come on, Kenshin.” She pivoted to head inside, and Himura followed.

“Arm’s length.” Koshijiro warned, remembering the close proximity of the kitchen. With these two, he would have to be vigilant.

“We got it, Otou-san!” Kaoru grumbled. At her side, Himura only gave an ambiguous smile.

Extremely, extremely vigilant.


	2. In the City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I'm rereading the manga now, because of this fic. Yay. :D Also, my original draft was decidedly not as funny as the first chapter. Sorry, it's just that there's a reality associated with being assumed dead and losing an arm and such. So I went back and inserted some more humorous scenes, but comedy's still not the focus. But Koshijiro *might* be changing his attitude towards Kenshin. Baby steps, guys.

Koshijiro woke to a jolt of pain and gritted his teeth. He had to ride it through, there was nothing to be done except take medicine. He didn't want to consider that. The doctors of the Satsuma hospital had given him too much, and he hated how the persistent numbness dulled his senses. The pain wasn't that bad, he told himself, but he made a mental reminder to meditate later.

After he stretched and managed to put on his clothes, he opened his bedroom door and abruptly stopped. Himura was standing in front of him, his fist raised as if to knock. "Kamiya-dono, good morning." The redheaded man beamed. "This one was about to tell you that breakfast is ready."

"I see. Thank you, Himura-san." He curtly nodded and stepped past him. He was about to head for the table, when another door slid open and Himura spoke again.

"Good morning, Kaoru-dono."

"Mm, good morning, Kenshin." His daughter still looked drowsy, but she was clad in her training uniform.

"An extra five minutes will not be required today?" There was a note of amusement in Himura's tone.

She laughed. "No, that's because Otou-san…is awake and standing right there." She had noticed him in the hallway mid-sentence and straightened her posture. "Good morning, Otou-san."

"Good morning, Kaoru."

"Um, I don't always sleep in."

"That's right, and Kaoru-dono doesn't ask for more than five minutes." Himura added. From this entire conversation, it sounded as if Himura knocking on her door was a normal occurrence.

"And no, he doesn't go into my room, Otou-san. I _know_ you were going to ask that."

He grimaced. He really was about to, but instead he said. "Don't worry about the five minutes. The past months were difficult for you." All of the students had left as well; he would have to address that. "As long as you're prepared on time for practice, that's all I ask."

As he made his way to the table, he heard his daughter confide to Himura. "Otou-san is very serious when it comes to kenjutsu."

He couldn't deny that, but it was clear that things were going to change. He couldn't hold a shinai properly, and in a fight, he would have trouble keeping his balance. He had already proven that, with Himura. No, there was only one path he could take from now on.

The three of them ate breakfast together. The miso, rice, and fish were good, he grudgingly realized. But he would have rather suffered another phantom pain than say it to Himura's face.

"Anyway, no one's come back yet." Kaoru said. "But some students might show up today, because the head instructor's finally home." She smiled at him, and he felt slightly guilty about what he was about to say.

"Kaoru, I'm not going to be teaching."

"Well, I know that." Her worried gaze drifted to his limp sleeve. "You still need to recover, don't you? But if the students come back, you can correct them. Especially the older ones, they respected you more."

"No, I meant…" He paused for a moment and sighed. "I'm stepping down."

She dropped her chopsticks, and they clattered in her bowl. "Huh?! Then, what are you going to do?"

"It's not as if I'm breaking all ties to the school. I'll remain as an advisor and sparring judge, but main teaching duties will be yours from now on."

She stood in shock. "Me? But I haven't even won a match with the succession techniques yet!"

"That shouldn't matter. You alone have stood by Kamiya Kasshin, and the students must honor that. If I'm the only one who can keep them here, the school will crumble as soon as I'm dead. If Kamiya Kasshin is to survive in the new era, it must learn to survive under new leadership." He sipped his tea, before looking at her directly. "You deserve to be head instructor, Kaoru. You've proven as much, over and over, and to keep you as an assistant instructor would be denying that. So, please accept."

She seemed like she was about to protest, but she knelt down again and lifted her chin. "I humbly accept the title of head instructor."

He nodded. "Good."

"Congratulations, Kaoru-dono." Oh, Himura was still at the table.

"Th-thanks." She nervously stirred her miso. "Wait, is this the last of the miso paste?"

"Unfortunately, it is. This one will have to go to the market later."

"You still don't know your way around, I'll come with you. It's not as if there are students to teach." She grumbled.

"I'll come too." Koshijiro added.

"Otou-san, you don't have to. And not as a chaperone, because it's not necessary since _nothing will happen_."

"I haven't said anything of the sort."

"Oh, really?" She crossed her arms. "Then, why do you want to go into town?"

He was stoic, trying to formulate an excuse, when Himura spoke up. "Kamiya-dono, there is paperwork to fill, isn't there? For reclaiming your job as a policeman and notifying the census about your mistaken death."

"…That's right." And even worse, it was completely true. He had forgotten about his legal status; he had been too focused on returning to the dojo. "We'll leave if no one shows up before noon."

He hoped that at least one person would come, so Kaoru could act head instructor for the first time, but the hours ticked past. As he meditated in his room to keep the pain at bay, he faintly heard his daughter griping about the lack of attendance and Himura's gentler responses.

 _They had better be staying apart._ Damn it, he had tensed up again. He forced himself to relax each muscle, one by one, and let his consciousness sink away from worldly concerns.

Still, he was relieved when they finally departed. However, it wasn't for long. His daughter and Himura walked alongside each other, no thanks to the narrow road. He couldn't be as strict, and Himura knew it. He had even apologized beforehand.

"Sorry, Kamiya-dono. It will be difficult to abide by your rule." He had given his signature harmless smile. "Perhaps, this one can walk in front."

"That's acceptable."

"We are not going to the market in single file!" Kaoru scowled. "Otou-san, how hard is it to make an exception? After all, the way of Kamiya Kasshin includes 'being fluid in thought and action'. Remember?"

"I remember that's advice for sparring, not…whatever this is." He finished lamely. Drilling the tenets of his philosophy into her memory had backfired on him, and he was caught off guard.

"It doesn't matter! Honestly!" She angrily headed down the path, and Himura caught up to her. He had spoken to her, in a soothing tone.

So now, Koshijiro remained a few paces behind them, frowning every time their shoulders almost brushed. But Himura had defused her temper. She had changed the subject, trying to make conversation. "One of the other dojos offered that I practice with them, so I'll be gone tomorrow afternoon."

"Do you prefer anything for tomorrow's dinner?"

"Mm, whatever's cheap is fine. We can see what's for sale today."

"That sounds like a good plan, Kaoru-dono."

His irritation still lingered, picking at the exchange. He had spoken like that with Kyoko, when they were newlyweds. But before they were married and he hadn't worked up the courage to court her, she had insisted on walking by his side.

"If I'm going to talk to you, I'd rather do it face to face." She had told him. "Otherwise, how can my words reach you? Aren't we friends? Or did that change, now that my parents aren't around?" He had been taken aback and embarrassed, so he slowed his pace to match hers.

 _Even now, you have the answer to this, don't you?_ He wryly thought. It was true that the three of them were living under one roof, but that didn't mean he could force them to act like strangers once they passed the gate. And now that Kaoru was head instructor, he had to trust her, and not just with kenjutsu. He probably wasn't ready to extend the same sentiment to Himura, though…

They approached the market, and above the noise of the bustling crowd, Himura said. "Thank you for escorting us, Kamiya-dono."

"You're welcome, Himura-san." He didn't sound as clipped as he thought, and the younger man courteously nodded.

Kaoru took a hesitant step. "Otou-san, I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"No, it was my fault for being rigid." He conceded. "Fluidity in thought and action are important outside of the dojo…and out of the house as well. You were right, head instructor."

That made her smile. "You don't have to call me that, to make your point. But, thank you. We'll see you later." They both waved, and she quickly called Himura's attention over to a stall.

He eyed their backs, just to make sure Himura was behaving, before turning towards the police station. He believed he could enter without much fuss, but the skinny man at the front desk recognized him right away.

"Kamiya-san?!" It was Mori, who had been assigned to Tokyo three years ago. He blinked hard. "A ghost? No, is this a dream?"

He decided to be frank, for time's sake. "Good afternoon, Mori-san. I didn't die in Satsuma, and I've come home. Is the chief here?"

"Yes, he's in his office. He'll be glad to see you, I'm sure."

He wasn't fond of the chief, but he didn't have to be. He had been a hard worker, and the chief appreciated that. Their conversation was short.

The chief adjusted his glasses. "I can't send you into active duty like that. We have plenty of patrols, thanks to a unit sent from Satsuma. But to be honest, I can't bring myself to turn you away. If you want, there's paperwork to be done."

"Paperwork would be fine. I look forward to working with you again."

After they negotiated his salary, he bowed to the chief and left. A carriage had just pulled up outside, and a tall man with an impressive mustache walked out. He seemed important enough for Koshijiro to stay out of his way.

Although his medical records from Satsuma had arrived, the contradictions in the Tokyo office had to be resolved. The frustrating legal paperwork took until sunset; when he was officially alive, his daughter and Himura were already home. She was pouring tea into his cup, and they greeted him.

"I assume the market trip went well?" Koshijiro inquired.

"Yes, it did." Himura answered. "Tomorrow's dinner has also been decided."

"But we're keeping it a surprise for you." Kaoru cheekily said.

He shook his head, but smiled. "Very well, but I was more concerned about tonight's meal. Let's eat."

* * *

 

 The following morning was decidedly strange. There were more than fifteen prospective students outside the door, and Kaoru was excited. "Kamiya Kasshin will be revived!"

He had just left the table, when Himura walked up to her side. "This isn't good."

"Eh?" She blinked, and before Koshijiro could remind Himura about the arm's length rule, the rurouni announced.

"This one isn't a teacher or part of this dojo. If you're here because of yesterday's incident, this one is sorry but you will have to leave."

Within a few seconds, they had all scrambled off. Himura hummed something about tending to the bath, and Koshijiro glanced at his stricken daughter.

"Yesterday's incident?" He repeated. "What happened at the market?"

"Kenshin fought off some of the sword-wielding police, when they were harassing him and a crowd. And he obviously got popular enough to finally lure students here!" She ground out and stalked toward Himura. "You idiot! Why did you send them home?!"

The sword-wielding police from Satsuma? He had heard their skills excelled that of the Tokyo police, but Himura had taken them on by himself? Any other man would have been labeled reckless, but Koshijiro mulled it over. Himura had also fought multiple opponents in the dojo and won. That kind of fighting wasn't reckless, it was discerning and highly so. It explained why he turned away those prospective students as well. Nevertheless, Koshijiro would only believe his own eyes, that the man was skilled with a blade. And more importantly…

"The two of them didn't mention the fight." Granted, they had steered away from the subject, but they should have told him anyway! If he had known, well, he would have become stricter and that afternoon's discussion would have been meaningless. Perhaps, he couldn't blame them, but he made a decision.

_I should be there for the next fight that happens._

His daughter was still furious when she was about to leave for the other dojo. Himura was tagging along for another errand, while Koshijiro had his newly assigned paperwork to tend to. Out of respect for his war injury and seniority, he had been allowed to work at home in peace.

"Kaoru, don't be so upset." He told her. "If Himura hadn't told them off, I would have chased them away."

"Otou-san!" She scowled.

"If they can't respect you as the head instructor, they aren't worth having as students."

"And if we don't have students, how can we earn money?"

"…If my work goes well, the chief may give me a raise."

"Geez, that's not funny!"

Himura chuckled. "Father and daughter have similar glares."

 _Well, no one had asked for his opinion._ Koshijiro thought sourly. But Himura had been right in telling off the prospective students. They were only concerned with strength, not the will to protect life. They wouldn't have honestly followed the path of Kamiya Kasshin.

The day dragged on, but obviously, news of his return had spread. Dr. Gensai paid a visit, allowing his granddaughters to play in the grass while they talked.

"Are you experiencing pain, where your left arm used to be?"

"There are times, but I can endure it."

"Well, if it gets to be too much, I have medicine that will do the trick. Not opium, of course, and you shouldn't touch that either."

"I know. A drug like that is dangerous, perhaps even more so because it cures pain." In his paperwork, there were reports of opium-related deaths. "However, healing the body means nothing, if it poisons the mind."

A letter from Maekawa also arrived, requesting a meeting next week. He wrote a reply, but he wondered why his old friend hadn't visited in person. Then again, the Maekawa dojo had students, and Maekawa himself had always been courteous.

In the end, he hadn't been able to finish his paperwork. He had to work slowly, to avoid making mistakes, and he didn't have his left hand to hold down the paper as he wrote. He had been focused enough, that he barely registered Kaoru's return.

"Kenshin isn't back yet?" She glanced around.

"No, not yet."

"Otou-san, were you working all day like this? You should see yourself, you look so tired." She planted her hands on her hips. "Just take a break and close your eyes for a few minutes. You'll feel better afterward."

He really must have been tired, because he dragged himself to his futon. Kaoru adjusted his pillow, and he settled onto it. "Thank you."

"You have to take care of yourself, Otou-san." She shuffled his papers together before stacking them. "It's not good to push yourself too hard."

"Did you, while I was gone?"

"I did. I was worried about the finances and the students. But now Kenshin's here to help, and I feel better than I have in months." She smiled. "Speaking of Kenshin, we saw a kid today. And that kid…I should call for a carriage. He was hurt. Just stay put, Otou-san!" She called out, hurrying away.

He wasn't aware of it, but he fell asleep. He was only woken by loud voices, and he forced himself to get up. He shook his head, to clear the drowsiness, as he entered the hallway.

"Stop calling me a hag!" That was his daughter.

"I'll do what I want, hag!" An unfamiliar voice retorted.

Koshijiro walked towards them, wincing at the light. Himura was cooking in the kitchen, and Kaoru was seated at the table. Next to her was a young boy, who had a bandage wound around his head.

Himura paused in the middle of ladling broth into bowls. "Oh, Kamiya-dono. We're about to have dinner now, so you're perfectly on time. This is Myojin Yahiko, the new student of Kamiya Kasshin."

"Because Kenshin told me to join. And who are you?" The boy spat.

"Kamiya Koshijiro. The founder of Kamiya Kasshin and father of your teacher."

"She's not my teacher, I'm not learning from this hag! Why can't I learn from you?" Too late, the boy realized Koshijiro's empty sleeve and he scowled. "Oh, that's why."

"Yes, it is."

"Because he's retired!" Kaoru snapped. "And I'm the head instructor, so you're learning from me, whether you like it or not! So there!" The boy didn't know how to hold his tongue, and they began to bicker again.

Himura was about to carry the bowls over, but he approached Koshijiro. "Kamiya-dono, is it alright if he lives here? He has nowhere else to go. Until recently, he was stealing for the yakuza. However, he'll be a diligent student. This one can see that."

Himura was serious, like when he had mentioned fighting during the Bakumatsu. But he showed that he genuinely cared for the future of Kamiya Kasshin. He had proven himself to be discerning, Koshijiro recalled his earlier consideration. And he didn't like the thought of the boy being homeless, especially when yakuza were still lurking.

"Yes, he's welcome. However, if he has such promise, he will have to learn respect before holding a shinai."

"Oro…"

During the continued banter over dinner, Koshijiro devised a schedule to space out his paperwork. If the household was expanding, he would have to work hard and earn that raise sooner.


	3. First Fight

The week flew by, and when Koshijiro stopped by the Maekawa dojo, it was his friend's wife who greeted him. He wasn't well-acquainted with Sachi, yet she was unfailingly polite and today was no exception.

"I apologize, but my husband has fallen ill and he isn't in any condition to accept visitors. We're deeply sorry, Kamiya-sensei."

"No, I understand. Tell him that I wish he recovers quickly. When he's well, we can reschedule our meeting."

"Yes, of course. By the way, we're very happy that you returned home safely."

"Oh, thank you." He bowed, then left the way he came. Kaoru was at home, training the new student.

Yahiko was belligerent and disrespectful, although that could have been attributed to his lack of parenting. People gossiped about the young boy living in the Kamiya household, and it was whispered that his father had died before he was born. Yahiko's mother had died of a disease, most likely contracted by the only work available to poor widows. Still, he was the only student and Kaoru could only try her best in training him. In that case, it would be good for her, to learn how to deal with a problematic boy. Every class had one…

Koshijiro's train of thought came to a screeching halt, when he passed the gate. There were identical shallow pits on either side of the walkway, as if two projectiles had crashed into the ground. Clay shards were scattered in the grass, and he looked up to see Himura stretching cloth over an obvious hole in the dojo's front wall.

There had been _another_ fight?!

"Kamiya-dono!" Himura jolted. "Welcome back."

"…I'm home." He shortly said, before calling out. "Kaoru!"

His daughter emerged from the dojo, with a forced smile. "Otou-san, you're back from visiting Maekawa-sensei already?"

"Maekawa-sensei is ill, so our meeting has been delayed. More importantly, what happened?"

"Some men were looking for trouble, but we made them leave."

"And why did the men target this house?"

"W-well…" She hesitated. "They were drunk."

"From what it looks like, they had managed to procure a cannon."

"Actually, yes."

Koshijiro glanced around. "Was it Hira and Sato?"

"How did you know?!"

"Out of all the students, they were the most irresponsible sake drinkers. And unfortunately, they were arrogant drunks. Did they pick a fight with the cannon bearers?"

"Wow, he's good." Yahiko spoke up, his brow damp with sweat. "Better than you are."

"I gave them the benefit of the doubt, there's nothing wrong with that." She turned back to Koshijiro. "We're alright, none of us are hurt. The carpenter will be here tomorrow, to fix the dojo."

The incredulity hadn't faded, and he frowned. He didn't like how trite the scenario sounded.

Kaoru continued. "Otherwise, that was it, and Yahiko's gotten the basic steps down. Come on, demonstrate."

The boy had good form, but he was moving too quickly.

"Yahiko, slower. You won't get any stronger if you're hasty."

"Okay." He grumbled, but he obeyed.

"You're doing well." Himura spoke up. "Kamiya-dono, may this one talk to you after this?"

It certainly had to do with the fight, and Koshijiro acquiesced. "Very well."

While Yahiko repeated the basics and Kaoru oversaw his progress, Himura began to cut vegetables for dinner. His words were interspersed with the thud of the kitchen knife. "Hira-kun and Sato-kun were foolish, but they were repentant. This one believes that the encounter was an accident."

"It most likely was, until the cannon was brought out. I'll inform the department to look for it. Even if I could, I have no power to arrest anyone." He was only a paper pusher now. "As for Hira and Sato, I must tell them that they cannot put my daughter in danger, especially if it's because of their mistakes."

"That is understandable." Himura quietly said.

An awkward silence followed, before Koshijiro inquired. "How did Kaoru react?"

The redheaded man smiled. "She was saddened, but she still told Hira-kun to see a doctor for his injured shoulder."

"Is that so? Then, the new master is rather kind."

* * *

While the dojo was repaired, they took the opportunity to clean the house. As Himura scrubbed the floors, his fast running could have been mistaken for flying. Yahiko was tasked with airing the bedding, to train his arms. Koshijiro dusted, because even with one arm, he still had the most reach. Meanwhile, Kaoru sorted through items, clearing out the junk. That was the heaviest duty, and she was still rummaging through the closet, after the carpenter was paid.

"It's alright, Kaoru. I can take over." Koshijiro offered.

"No, I want to finish what I started, and this is the last of it. Besides, Yahiko knows enough to practice on his own for the morning. Hm? What's this?" She had found a scroll, and she curiously unrolled it.

"That looks like one of your grandfather's paintings." Koshijiro's father had dabbled in the arts as a hobby; it suited his carefree nature. "He must have thought it was a failure." There had been many of those, tossed aside in despair.

"But it's not that bad, it's still a decent landscape. Ah, can we sell it?"

"Why not? It's better than letting it collect dust."

She beamed. "Then, we should treat everyone!"

And so, they set out for the Akabeko. The Kamiya family had known Sekihara Tae since she opened the restaurant, and she was a good friend to Kaoru. She called out a welcome as the group entered, and Kaoru eagerly greeted her.

"Tae, it's been so long."

"Yes, but it's nice to see you too." She warmly responded and she must have noticed Himura, for she then asked. "Is this new fellow your sweetheart?"

Kaoru waved off the question, her cheeks pink. "No, he's only boarding with us."

Abruptly, the conversation was cut short by loud voices, from a nearby table. The three men were bickering over politics, and Himura noted that they sounded like civil rights supporters. Yahiko dryly noted that they were mere drunks. Nevertheless, they were seated and ordered sukiyaki.

"Can we also have three coffees and one tea?" Kaoru added.

"Of course. The tea is for you, isn't it?" Tae turned to Koshijiro, her worried gaze directed at his left side. "How have you been, Koshijiro-san?"

"I'm well now that I'm home, Sekihara-san."

"That's good to hear, and thank you for returning safely." She bowed her head. "I'll have your order out soon." The restaurant was certainly busy, for she quickly left them.

Then, not long afterwards, a bottle suddenly crashed against Himura's head.

"Kenshin, are you alright?" Kaoru reached out to him as he gave a pitiful moan. The bottle had been thrown from that rowdy table, and Yahiko jumped at the chance to yell at the arguing men.

"Maybe you didn't notice, but you just hit someone! Apologize first!"

"Yahiko-kun, sit down." Koshijiro urged, but it was too late. Insults began to fly, and Koshijiro grimaced, as he heaved himself from his seat. If only he had his police badge and his other arm, he could have been faster at keeping the peace.

Tae had returned to interfere, but one of the men shoved her aside…straight into someone's hand. The person was a scruffy young man, with a bandana tying back his unruly hair. In a low drawl, he answered the men's demands to know who he was.

"I'm just a street fighter, who hates guys that pick on the weak. But I hate hypocrites who blab about 'freedom' and 'justice' even more."

The largest of the men, who had shoved Tae, took the most offense. "Let's take this outside."

"Sure." And with that, the street fighter, strolled out and the three men scrambled to beat him there. Meanwhile, Tae seemed a little shaken, and Koshijiro told her.

"Sekihara-san, there should be some officers patrolling nearby. If it's alright, could you find them and bring them here, in case the situation unravels? I'll stay as a proper witness."

"Yes, of course."

He stood next to his daughter, as the fight began. The larger man dealt the first punch, and Koshijiro noticed the flash of metal in his hand, right before the street fighter took the hit.

"He's a coward, he was hiding a suntetsu." Kaoru noted, and while Koshijiro silently agreed, he glared at the other men who jeered that the weapon was supposed to be hidden.

"That's true, but it doesn't matter." Himura remarked, for the street fighter was still standing. In fact, his opponent's knees buckled. Then, the street fighter flicked the man's forehead and the larger man collapsed. The fight had ended.

"I'm sorry, Koshijiro-san, but no one was there." Tae had returned, and he frowned.

"I'll have to speak to the department about that." His gaze then turned to Himura, who was speaking softly to one of the remaining men. That one was about to draw his sword, and Himura's hand was on the sakabato.

"Now, pay your bill and go home." That was all Himura said, but the other man looked stricken. In a flash, the three troublemakers sped off.

"Hold it!" Koshijiro shouted, but they didn't listen, too focused on retreating and licking their wounds.

"What, are you a cop? You sure don't look like it, old man." The street fighter drawled.

Old man? His eyelid twitched. He wasn't that old, and so what if he didn't look like a police officer now?

"Hey, is your head okay?" The street fighter's attention had drawn to Himura, who gave an affirmative answer. At Kaoru's questioning face, he clarified. "If you had dodged the bottle, it would have hit the girl in the face. You let yourself take the hit, so you could shield her, right?" The street fighter was correct, Koshijiro realized. Kaoru had been sitting opposite Himura, and the table of troublemakers had been behind him. Both Yahiko and Kaoru now looked at Himura in astonishment.

But Himura demurred, also declining an offer of a fight. The street fighter shrugged it off and walked away; the character for 'evil' was sewn into the cloth on his back.

However, as suave as that seemed, Tae noticed aloud that he hadn't paid his bill.

* * *

"Kamiya-san, you know I can't let you return to active duty." The police chief gently reminded him.

"Yes, but personnel has been low, ever since the Satsuma men left. Also, it's clear that some of the officers need to be trained." Koshijiro listed off the past instances. "Not actively pursuing the investigation of a cannon procured by a local gang. Slacking off during midday patrols. Undue delays in the arrests of three drunk men, one of whom was illegally carrying a sword. And undue delays in the arrests of Hiruma Gohei and Hiruma Kihei, who have been accused of murder and harassed my daughter for real estate." After his supposed death, the land had been legally turned over to Kaoru, and it was still under her name. There was no point in taking the land back, when she was the master of Kamiya Kasshin and would have inherited it anyway.

"I'm aware of all of that, Kamiya-san." The police chief was sweating now. "With our current numbers on the ground, we are doing all we can. If it would make you feel better, I can put you in charge of the last investigation."

He grimaced. "I did not want to be appeased, only to be listened to." He left for the afternoon, feeling terribly frustrated. In the two weeks following the incident at the Akabeko, the police had been slow to mobilize. If only he could do more than painstakingly write reports…

The next day, he worked through the morning, only stopping when Yahiko knocked. "Er, Kamiya-san? Lunch is ready."

His hand cramped as he answered. "Yes, I'll be there in a moment."

He could barely taste the onigiri and tea, for he was planning out the remainder of his work schedule. At the rate he was going, he could finish another five reports before dinner. He would have to return to work as soon as possible, although he felt a twinge of guilt at leaving the table so early. But it wasn't as if he would be missed. His daughter was reading quietly, as Yahiko scarfed down the rice balls. Himura blew at his tea, but he placed the cup down.

"We have a guest."

"Eh? Wait, Kenshin." Kaoru set down her book and hurried after him. Koshijiro exchanged a glance with Yahiko, before they followed in her wake. "What's going on?"

"This one felt his ki. This kind of spirit could not be hidden." He explained and opened the front door. The street fighter was standing there, and while Koshijiro had never mastered detecting ki, heavy intent roiled off the young man.

He shifted the wrapped spear on his shoulder. "I came to pick a fight."

"This one has already said that he won't fight."

The street fighter stepped forward. "I'm not backing down, not when my target is Hitokiri Battousai, who fought for the Ishin Shishi with the ancient style of Hiten Mitsurugi."

Koshijiro's brows drew together as the street fighter talked. The assassin for the Choushuu Ishin Shishi had been a teenager, killing for the revolutionaries until the first battle of Toba Fushimi. Then, he had disappeared, before resurfacing as none other than Himura Kenshin.

The story seemed far-fetched on the surface, but Himura did not deny it. Instead, he only asked. "How have you decided to fight this one?"

"Hmm, don't know. I'll just have to see for myself, in a fair fight."

Still, Himura deflected. "This one doesn't understand. You do not like bullying the weak, yet you live as a street fighter. And why do you wear that character for 'evil'? You seem to be honest, but right now, your thinking is warped. What happened to you, to make you like this?"

He scoffed. "If you want to know, you'll have to beat me. But you gotta know that I hate the Ishin Shishi; you all were hypocrites, using pretty words like 'equality of the four classes' and 'justice' to trample on anyone in the way. So I want to defeat you with all I've got! You, who they called the strongest of the Ishin Shishi!"

Despite himself, Koshijiro could understand the street fighter's anger. Like Himura, he had fought for the Ishin Shishi, and he knew firsthand that the side he chose was not perfect. But that did not mean this street fighter had a right to seek vengeance. As for Himura...he would address that matter soon enough.

"This one accepts." While Kaoru and Yahiko were startled by Himura's calm statement, Koshijiro wasn't. Himura had no qualms about getting involved, from what he had observed. "However, did the Hiruma brothers employ you?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"They're among the few who know this one, and their ki is behind the fence."

At that, Koshijiro pivoted and headed for the gate. Indeed, Gohei and Kihei were crouching nearby, and they flinched. Koshijiro glared at them. "Out into the yard. Now."

They really were cowards to the core, because they shuffled out. The street fighter confiscated Kihei's gun, although crushing it was a tad extraneous. Koshijiro was too late, to argue that it could have been used as evidence, but the situation was progressing fast. He intended to be a silent observer, but Kihei turned to him.

"Kamiya-dono!" He gave a wide, false smile, his eyes darting to Koshijiro's missing arm. "This is just another way to negotiate selling the land."

"Oh? It seemed you were the ones who decided to stop negotiations, when you undermined the school's reputation." His tone was cool, but he was already thinking ahead. At the moment, he was only a citizen, and it was his duty to find someone else who could properly make arrests. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"Hold on, old man." The street fighter lowered his wrapped spear, barring Koshijiro from taking another step. "No one's going anywhere until we settle this fight."

"Kamiya-dono, this won't take long." Himura meant to be reassuring. He wasn't. "The dojo is too small; we can take this to the river."

Koshijiro grudgingly gave Himura credit for that. As the group walked through town, people took notice and murmured. However, because the criminals led the way, their route was escaping any patrols.

"Were you surprised, Yahiko?" Himura asked.

"Sort of, but I'm not scared of you. It just explains why you're so strong." Yahiko shrugged.

The redhead then glanced at Koshijiro, who was bringing up the rear. Neither of them spoke first, and after a few seconds, Himura lowered his head and looked away.

Kaoru had sensed the tension and slowed her pace. "I guess you know now, Otou-san, but listen to me. Kenshin is Kenshin, it doesn't matter who he was. Please don't be mad at him."

He pressed his mouth into a thin line. "For now, let's worry only about this fight."

To his disappointment, they reached the river without any interference from the police. Himura and the street fighter stood apart from the rest, facing each other on the grass.

As the street fighter unwrapped his weapon, he introduced himself. "I'm Sagara Sanosuke, but the underground knows me better as Sanosuke with the zanbatou, or Zanza for short." The spear wasn't a spear after all. Koshijiro looked warily at the hefty horse-killing sword, while Himura drew his reverse blade.

Zanza made the first strike, and clumps of dirt flew through the air. But Himura had speed. Koshijiro needed effort, to track Himura's movements, and the man still had enough power to knock Zanza to the ground. There was an awed silence, but Zanza managed to recover.

"He has a lot of endurance." Kaoru said. "We might have misjudged how strong he is."

"That's true." Koshijiro agreed. "But Himura has been holding back."

The redhead wasn't even out of breath, and when the second round began, he quickly struck back. Zanza was too slow, his moves easily read by Himura. Koshijiro stared as Himura dealt a series of blows, his sword arcing again and again. If the blade wasn't reversed, Zanza would have been dead.

Himura is not just a good swordsman, he's a remarkable one.

As the street fighter grimaced on the dirt, Himura called out. "Let's stop this fight, this one does not wish to hurt you any further. Accept defeat, please."

For a long moment, it seemed it was the end. Then, Zanza's fingers twitched, and he struggled to get up once more. "Can't lose…for the Sekihoutai…I'm not gonna lose!"

A gunshot ripped the air. Himura flew backwards.

"Kenshin, no!" His daughter's strangled cry unfroze Koshijiro. He charged to Kihei, who apparently had another gun on him. Koshijiro may not have counted Himura as a friend, but shooting at him was unacceptable.

"Huh?" Kihei was visibly startled, but Koshijiro had too much momentum to stop. He tackled the man, pinning down the hand that held the gun. He looked up when Yahiko shouted to Himura. Astonishingly, the bullet had been blocked by the sakabato's guard. The metal crumbled, but Himura was unscathed. Koshijiro exhaled, but his expression tensed again when Kihei shouted to his brother. "Gohei, get the brats! Break their legs if you have to!"

New terror seized Koshijiro, and he twisted his head to see Gohei advancing on his daughter and her student. "Kaoru, Yahiko-kun, run!" He bellowed.

Kaoru was pulling Yahiko back, her eyes wide. In the next instant, the zanbato slammed into Gohei's outstretched arm. Blood gushed, and the man screamed.

Zanza was on his feet again, his eyes manic. "I'm not gonna lose, I can't lose!"

The sky then whirled over Koshijiro; Kihei had thrown him off in the confusion. He bit back a curse and tried to right himself. The little man had the guts to aim at Himura once more, and he even had a second pistol in his clothing.

"Clearly, you are beyond help." Himura had a look of such intense focus, it seemed out of place on him. He dug his sword into the loose dirt, and earth flew into Kihei's eyes. The little man howled and collapsed, his mouth open in pain. He had broken a tooth from the force of his fall.

Koshijiro took the chance to take both pistols, pointing one at Kihei to keep him from escaping. Still, he frowned at the feel of the icy metal. He glanced at Gohei, who was openly crying at his mangled arm, before returning his attention to Kaoru and Yahiko. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah, I guess." Yahiko replied, while Kaoru shakily nodded.

"We are."

 _This was far too risky. And where on earth is the nearest patrol?! I'll talk the police chief's ears off, if we survive this._ He couldn't think calmly at all, not when their collective safety had been in danger.

Himura wasn't finished yet either. Zanza was intent on a third round, wildly spinning his weapon. It would be the last time, for Himura moved in a blur and the ancient zanbato split in half. The next blow was to Zanza himself, and the street fighter could barely stand.

"Wait here, while this one fetches a doctor. And the police." Himura added, before turning away.

"Not yet! I haven't lost yet!" Zanza spat more about the fallen Sekihoutai. "I'll die before I lose to you Ishin Shishi scum!"

Koshijiro had expected Himura to keep walking, but he doubled back to punch the street fighter's jaw. Zanza reeled back, stunned, as Himura said. "Did they teach you to kill the Ishin Shishi or to fight for a new era?"

He regained his voice, launching into another rant. "Don't give me that shit! You were greedy, you lied to everyone!"

"You're wrong!" It was Kaoru's voice that rang out. "Kenshin isn't like that, he never cared about power. He chose to protect people, so what do you know about him? You just see him as Hitokiri Battousai, but you're the one who started all of this!"

"That's right!" Yahiko rushed forward, but Himura stopped him from restarting the fight.

"It is true, the new era is not finished. Even after ten years, the weak are still oppressed. But to aid those people, this one carries this blade. This one doesn't know for how long, but it is how this one chooses to make amends to the revolution's victims. Hitokiri Battousai's victims. So you see, this one will continue to fight for the people. What will you do?"

His words must have reached Zanza, for at last, the street fighter fell and did not stand up again.

* * *

When the police finally arrived to arrest the Hiruma brothers, Koshijiro went with them to offer his testimony. Zanza had been transported to a different wing for his injuries as well. It was clear that neither brother would be able to make statements, so after his part was complete, Koshijiro returned home. The sunset bathed Tokyo in an orange light, as he quietly stepped past the gate. Himura was there, cleaning his sakabato. Or at least, he was trying to, because Kaoru and Yahiko were pinching the sides of his face.

"That's probably enough to get rid of those scary eyes." Yahiko remarked.

"Mm, that's the rurouni we know." Kaoru's ponytail bounced, as they snapped Himura's cheeks in place.

"Oro…"

Koshijiro coughed, and the three of them met his gaze. "Welcome home, Otou-san." His daughter nervously laughed.

"I'm back." But he did feel better, seeing her and the others safe. The Hiruma brothers were no longer a nuisance, yet that brought him to the next matter. "Himura-san, allow me to be clear with you."

Kaoru interrupted. "Otou-san, don't turn him away-"

"It's alright, Kaoru-dono." He lifted a hand to stop her, glancing at Koshijiro. "Kamiya-dono, what is it that you want to say?"

"…I don't know who Hitokiri Battousai is."

The other man smiled in relief. "Kaoru-dono said the same words to this one, that she only knew and accepted the rurouni. This one now understands where her ideals came from. Thank you, Kamiya-dono."

"No, Himura-san. I meant what I said. I have never heard of a person named Hitokiri Battousai, not once during my time in the army. And instead of hearing your sentiments about my daughter, please tell me in your own words, that this was your past." He scowled. Besides, what gave Himura the right to act so…mushy, when it came to Kaoru? Even now, she was blushing. Yahiko was giving her a rather disgusted expression.

"It's true, all of it." Himura hesitated. "Then, Kamiya-dono, if you wish for this one to leave-"

"I didn't say that. Himura-san, you know I fought in Satsuma, and during the Bakumatsu. I had to fulfill my duty as a soldier, even though I did not like it. I've done things that I'm not proud of, so who am I to judge you? As Kaoru said, it does not matter what your past is." He paused. "With that said, you cannot help that there are people who wish to fight you. That is out of your control. But Kaoru's accepted you, and she wants you to remain. I only ask that no one else be brought into future conflicts."

"Yes, of course. This one does not wish for anyone to be hurt."

Koshijiro cleared his throat. "Furthermore, if there are any more fights, I would appreciate it if they were in the yard or elsewhere. This house isn't nearly old enough to undergo a third round of repairs. That will be all." The conversation ended a little awkwardly, but Kaoru ran up to give him a quick hug.

She beamed at him. "Thank you, Otou-san."

"You know I wouldn't have made him leave."

"Well, you did look mad."

"I suppose so." He conceded; he _had_ been serious, after relating the incident to the police. "Oh, and another thing. This doesn't mean the arm's length rule is abolished. Kaoru, you cannot carelessly touch his face like that."

"Otou-san!" She was indignant. "It was to get him back to normal, and Yahiko helped too!"

"Himura-san is fully capable of restoring his facial features."

"This one isn't quite sure about that…"

"See? Otou-san, stop being so stubborn!"

Kaoru continued to protest and Yahiko joined in about wanting dinner, but they were all home, Himura included. And for that, Koshijiro had nothing to complain about.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Yes, Kenshin is infamous, but like with all stories and news, there are some people who just aren't in the loop. Being how he is, it's likely that Koshijiro would have kept to himself in the army, so it's easy to imagine that his limited interaction with his comrades didn't touch on Battousai. It's a subversion on how Kenshin's conflicts usually start with his former identity, and plus, Koshijiro was a soldier too. It's not directly stated, but given warfare at the time, he had to kill people to survive. He can't claim any moral ground over Kenshin and he knows it, so why wouldn't he still accept Kenshin? Well, other than that the rurouni's getting too close to his daughter...


	4. An Indigo Ribbon

When Koshijiro was a boy in Chiba, there had been a stray dog in the neighborhood. It was especially good at wheedling for scraps, pestering the poor target’s legs until it got what it wanted. Zanza, or rather Sagara now that he had given up fighting for hire, was like that dog. For almost every day now, he lingered around the dojo and sat down with them at lunch.

“Terrible.” He said, in between loud chews. “This is just terrible. Jou-chan, you should work at your cooking instead of teaching.”

Kaoru had grilled fish today, to give Himura a break. She had done her best, and that was enough for Koshijiro to eat. His cooking was worse, anyway. He quietly picked through the white flesh with his chopsticks, and Yahiko gnawed at his portion. But Kaoru was grinding her teeth in irritation.

“Hey, Kenshin.” Sagara looked for support. “How can you stand this?”

“It is not that bad. It tastes differently every time.”

“Well, if you don’t like it, then don’t eat!” Kaoru snapped, throwing a large radish in their direction. “Freeloaders shouldn’t complain anyway!”

Sagara ducked. “I quit fighting, so I’m not making money. Have a heart, Jou-chan.”

Meanwhile, the vegetable had glanced off Himura’s head, and the man groaned. “Oro…”

But before the argument could go any further, they were interrupted, as a familiar figure stepped past the gate. “Forgive the intrusion during your meal, but this is urgent.”

“It’s fine, Chief.” Koshijiro set down his bowl and stood, ignoring everyone’s wide eyes. “Is it about that case?”

The man grimly nodded. “I’m afraid it is, and we require Himura-san’s assistance.”

* * *

Shortly after the Hiruma brothers were transported to prison, the police chief had summoned Koshijiro. “I did think on what you said, so I’ve been editing the current rules. I’m going to be more active in overseeing the men, and I changed the patrol routes to increase efficiency. And if it’s no trouble, I’d like you to train the less experienced officers. You can keep them in line, give them tasks they can’t refuse, and deliver consequences as you see fit.” He handed over a roster of fifteen names. “You can take time to think it over.”

“I won’t need it; I accept. I’m grateful to be more involved.”

“No, thank you, Kamiya-san. I’ll adjust your pay, of course. Especially since…” He cleared his throat. “I heard that the Ishin Shishi soldier, Himura Kenshin, is living with you and your daughter.”

Koshijiro blinked in surprise. “That’s true, he is boarding with us. Who did you hear this from?”

“During that incident with the Satsuma policemen, Yamagata-san visited and spoke to Himura-san. It was not long after you returned to Tokyo.”

“Yamagata…Aritomo?” The general of the Kiheitai, the Emperor’s army? Suddenly, Koshijiro recalled the mustached man, walking into the police station when he rejoined the department. “I suppose he knew Himura-san from the Bakumatsu.”

The chief nodded. “Yes, it seemed that way. Are you aware of Himura-san’s work?”

“…yes.”

“Then, you may understand why I’m interested.” He slid over a folder, opening the contents. “There’s a man who poses a great danger to our officials. Internally, we’ve been referring to him as Kurogasa.”

Koshijiro skimmed through the papers. The number of casualties was strikingly high, and the targets appeared to be politicians who were formerly Ishin Shishi. The most recent case was in Shizuoka, almost two months prior. Even the infantry were unable to stand a chance. “And you think Himura-san can defeat this killer?”

“I am seriously considering it. If we need him, I will let you know.”

* * *

Now, the police chief sat opposite Himura and informed him of the case. Koshijiro was aware of the details, of how grown men were paralyzed before this serial killer. It seemed unbelievable to read, but the many interviews of the wounded could not be ignored. Koshijiro had wondered if it was some sort of chemical gas, but Himura thought differently.

“That sounds like the Shin no Ippou, of the Nikaidou Heihou style.” He mused. “After the war, someone could have easily lost his way and became drawn to bloodshed. But to remain so, after ten long years…” He trailed off, choosing to drink his tea.

“Kenshin?” Kaoru gently asked. “Are you alright?”

He lifted his head slowly, as if he had just woken up, and he gave her a smile. “Yes, this one is fine.” He then turned to the police chief. “What would you have this one do?”

“If you are able, I would like you to take him down.”

“This one has taken a vow to not kill his opponents.” Himura informed him.

“Even if you cannot, getting him into custody will be enough.” The chief drew a piece of paper from his pocket, and hurriedly scribbled. “Tonight, Tani Juusanrou of the War Ministry will be in Tokyo. He’s already received a death threat from Kurogasa, so we need more people to protect him. Even if you are an outsider, this would be a good opportunity to face this killer, once and for all. Here are the details. I hope to see you tonight, and Kamiya-san, we’ll meet again at work.” The chief handed over the note, bowed deeply, and departed.

The mood was decidedly somber for the rest of the day. Sagara left to wherever his latest whim took him, while Kaoru continued to teach Yahiko. With his work finished, Koshijiro sat against the wall of the dojo and watched them practice one of the basic kata. The boy was progressing rapidly; if he was in a class, he would easily rank among the top five students.

“By the way, where’s Kenshin?” Yahiko asked.

Kaoru noted that he should mind his steps, before replying. “He mentioned that he was taking a walk. He’ll be back before dinner.”

“I hope so. We’ll probably die, if you cook again, ugly…ow!”

She had tapped his shoulder with her shinai, and she sweetly admonished him. “You have to concentrate, Yahiko-chan.”

“And demonstrate proper respect for your teacher. I heard you insult her once before, but twice is more than enough.” Koshijiro was irked, and he struggled to stand to his full height. Last time, he had entered the conversation too late, and Yahiko was injured. Now, there were no excuses left.

Yahiko did have some remaining self-preservation, because he gulped. “Er, I’m sorry?”

“I’m not the one you should apologize to.”

He pivoted to Kaoru and managed to sound contrite. “I’m sorry.”

“Geez, you listen to Otou-san, but not to me.” She ruffled his hair, ignoring how he grumbled. “Well, he’s better at disciplining, but we’re stuck with each other. Let’s practice the kata one more time, okay?”

About halfway through the kata, Himura returned. He was quieter than usual, and Koshijiro had intended to leave him alone. However, the man suddenly spoke, his gaze on the wall. “The sword that protects life. What made you think of the idea, Kamiya-dono?”

“It took some time to develop the concept.” He admitted. “Strength has value, but only when there is a reason for it. Take Kurogasa, for example. He may have been skilled once, but now, he is irrational and cruel. As for me, I grew tired of fighting, just to hold on to what I held dear. But this world is still violent, so I cannot lay down my sword. And yet, I have faith in this era, which promises peace without bloodshed. So, Kamiya Kasshin is a compromise, to channel necessary strength and remember why we fight. ‘The sword that protects life’ is a motto for the present and a wish for the future. But you would have heard Kaoru’s interpretation, so why do you ask?”

“This one is only curious.” He innocently blinked, but his tone grew serious. “Then, if a person had to kill to protect others, what is Kamiya Kasshin’s solution?”

“That is the flaw in my logic.” Koshijiro grimaced. “As a soldier and as a police officer, I had to think of the greater good. I cannot give you an answer, and for that, I am sorry.”

“No, it’s alright.” Himura paused. “This one has idled long enough, so this one will prepare dinner.”

After the sun dipped just below the horizon, they ate their meal in silence. At length, Yahiko asked. “Are you going, Kenshin?”

“Yes, it is best to help out the police. And this one is acquainted with Tani-dono. With luck, he may remember this one.”

Kaoru’s forehead creased with worry, and then out of irritation when they heard Sagara’s holler from the gate. She stood with a scowl. “Geez, he might as well live here.”

However, the former fighter’s rowdy presence lightened the atmosphere. He shared stories about the friends he played dice with, and although they bordered on inappropriate, the distraction was welcome. At last, the police carriage arrived and they saw Himura off.

“If it truly is the Shin no Ippou, this may prove to be difficult.”

“You mentioned that earlier. Do you know who this Kurogasa is?” Koshijiro inquired.

“Perhaps, but that was only a rumor.” He answered. “Regardless, this one will find out tonight.”

“Me too.” Sagara stepped forward, clapping Himura’s back. “This is too interesting to miss, so I’m tagging along.”

“Good night.” Yahiko yawned; it was about his bedtime.

Kaoru stepped forward. “I’ll have the bath ready, when you return.”

“Thank you, Kaoru-dono.” Himura looked to her, before smiling at everyone. “We’ll see you all in the morning.” Then, he and Sagara walked into the darkness.

* * *

Koshijiro woke, in a cold sweat. It took him a few seconds, to realize that he only had a dream. A nightmare. In Satsuma, his feverish mind had conjured scenes of how his life could have ended. A grenade landing at his feet. A sword running through his flesh. A gun barrel pressed to his temple. And the aftermath of bleeding into the ground and thinking that he did not want to die. This time, it was of the explosion, if he had been standing more to the left. As he forced his breathing to slow down, silence rang in his ears.

Since he had returned home, his sleep had been empty of any memories of the battlefield. It seemed that was only temporary. He slid out of his futon, intending to walk off the agitation. He used to practice in the dojo, but with only one arm, he could not properly hold a shinai. Instead, he settled in his usual spot on the porch. The wind was cold, but that meant it was real.

“Otou-san? You’re awake?” Kaoru’s voice floated over, and he looked behind him, to see her rubbing her eyes.

He decided not to tell her about his nightmare; she would only be concerned. “If there’s a killer on the loose, someone has to protect the house.”

“We’re not that important.” She countered, moving to sit beside him. “But I couldn’t sleep either. I don’t know why, I shouldn’t be worried. Kenshin can handle himself, and Sanosuke is with him.”

“Yes, that is true.”

For a while, there was only the sound of the wind.

“The moon’s full.” She commented. “Once, I saw Okaa-san sitting out here with you, on a night like this.”

“Ah, that was when she wanted to see the cherry blossoms in the moonlight. You remember something like that?”

“Mm-hmm. Because Okaa-san’s face was so happy.”

“Your mother always was, over little things like buying ribbons for you.”

“And she liked tying them for me. She liked indigo best; it’s why that one’s my favorite.” She yawned again.

“You should go back to sleep.” He gruffly said.

“Yeah, I will. I have to get up early, so I can fill the bathtub. Good night.”

After some time, he returned to his room. He did fall asleep again, but this time, he envisioned Kyoko, smiling over a cradle and saying how an indigo ribbon was so charming.

* * *

The next morning, Koshijiro noticed that Himura and Sagara had not returned. Breakfast was on the table, most likely because of his daughter. She wasn’t there though, and he glanced outside. Kaoru had dozed off on the porch, her mouth slack. With a fond smile, Koshijiro fetched a blanket to cover her.

He ate breakfast with Yahiko, who had noticed his sleeping instructor. “I should wake her up with cold water.”

“Leave her be. You can practice on your own for the morning.”

The boy perked up. “Okay!”

Then, Koshijiro started on his paperwork. He was a quarter of the way through, when he heard voices.

“I don’t think she slept at all, last night.” Yahiko was saying.

“Oh, yeah? Hey, Jou-chan, wake up. Wake up!”

Koshijiro walked out to see his daughter whacking the two boys with her shinai. She was not amused and ground out. “Welcome back. Huh? Where’s Kenshin?”

“He’s not coming back.” Sagara said. “This time, Kurogasa, or rather Jin-e, is after him. He didn’t want to put everyone else in danger, so he’s not coming back for a while. He wants me to look out for you.”

“But where did he go?” Kaoru pleaded.

“The riverbank, I guess. Hey, where are you going?”

She was headed for the gate. “I’m looking for Kenshin!”

“Well, that’s dumb. Look, I got injured because of Jin-e!” He pointed to his right arm, which was in a sling. “If you just wait here, it’ll be better that way.”

Kaoru spun around, tears welling in her gaze. “So after he fights Jin-e, is he going to wander again? And we’ll never see him again, just like that?” Her fists clenched, and she swallowed. “Okaa-san is dead, and Otou-san was almost taken from me too. Most of the students quit, and Kihei turned out to be a traitor. If that’s how it is, I’d rather meet the danger face to face!”

“Kaoru, you should stay here.” Koshijiro spoke up, feeling alarmed. “You are behaving recklessly.” And if Himura wanted to leave for good, no one had the right to stop him. But he refrained from saying that; it would only make his daughter angrier and the best option was to calm her down.

Sagara’s interjection shattered that plan. “You’ll only get in Kenshin’s way.”

She crossed her arms. “I won’t be there for long. It’s not as if he’ll be busy, he’s definitely not fishing at the river.”

“What does fishing have to do with any of this?” Yahiko complained, but Koshijiro stiffened. That jab was meant for him.

Unfortunately, Sagara also noticed. “Oh, I get it. You have a story to tell us, old man?”

“Otou-san, you can tell them. I’ll be back!” And with that, she ran past the gate, her indigo ribbon flying.

“There’s nothing to say about that.” Koshijiro evaded. Well, if his daughter tired herself out, she would come home.

“Aw, come on, it’s obviously juicy.” Sagara was reluctant to let it go, but he jerked his head in the direction of the gate. “Jou-chan’s selfish, she can’t stand being separated from Kenshin. Oh, well, that’s how love is, so there’s nothing you can do.”

“You should not draw conclusions, particularly when it comes to matters of the heart.” Still, Koshijiro was disgruntled. He grudgingly knew that Kaoru was infatuated with Himura, ever since that attempted punch during the first meeting. But hearing someone else call it love didn’t settle right with him. Kaoru was still young, after all.

“Sure, old man.” He scoffed and turned to Yahiko. “You don’t mind being left alone?”

“No, Kenshin’s the strongest in Japan, so why worry?”

“Good point. Well, Jou-chan will probably bring him back. I’ll take that bath and then a nap.” He gave a jaunty wave with his good hand. “Wake me up for lunch.”

Yahiko did so, when the hour came. Koshijiro sat with them, eyeing the clock. Kaoru had not returned yet. What if she was still looking for Himura? Or worse, what if she _had_ found him and they were alone?

 _Himura had better behave._ Koshijiro’s chopsticks clicked together in his irritation, and he ate faster. _Maybe, I’ll go to the riverbank myself._

However, that proved to be unnecessary. After the dishes were cleared, Himura shuffled past the gate, his bangs hiding his eyes.

“Kenshin!” Yahiko called out, running to greet him. Sagara followed suit, with Koshijiro behind.

“Aren’t you supposed to be waiting at the river, for Jin-e?” Sagara raised his eyebrows.

“Jin-e has kidnapped Kaoru-dono.”

“What?!” There was an echo, and then silence. Koshijiro had raised his voice. Sagara and Yahiko had flinched, but Himura didn’t react, his head lowered in submission. Koshijiro counted to three, before quietly ordering. “Himura-san, explain what happened this instant.”

“Kaoru-dono met this one at the river. She gave this one her ribbon, and then…” He clenched the indigo cloth in his hand, and Koshijiro’s eyes were helplessly drawn to his daughter’s possession. Then, Himura looked up. His expression was intimidating, as it had been before fighting Sagara, but this was more severe. It was as if cold fire burned in his gaze. “It was my fault. Jin-e wants to meet at midnight. I’m going to the forest, do not follow me. In return, I promise that I will bring her back.”

“You _must_ bring her back.” Koshijiro corrected, and he forced himself to add. “Then, I have no choice but to count on you.”

Himura nodded.

* * *

 _I’m sorry, I should have stopped her._ Koshijiro thought, as if that made any difference. He sat before Kyoko’s portrait, gripping his knee. As the day passed, he had only grown more anxious. Even though Himura would battle Jin-e at midnight, that caused more agony for the ones who were waiting.

Yahiko had repeated. “Kenshin’s the strongest, so he’ll save her.” Sagara had paced back and forth, before taking off somewhere.

And Koshijiro knelt at the altar, praying that his daughter was safe. Kyoko would not have forgiven him for putting their daughter in danger. He didn’t expect to forgive himself either. Jin-e was a serial killer who paralyzed his enemies to death. What if he decided Kaoru was no longer useful as a hostage? If only he had both of his arms, he could have gone with Himura. But he didn’t, and he had to trust that Himura would win. He would most likely kill Jin-e, yet Koshijiro could not bring himself to protest the idea.

_If it is a last resort, it is justifiable. Is that a betrayal of Kamiya Kasshin? It would be, but Kaoru’s life is more important than the school. I suppose, I truly was not fit to answer Himura’s question of killing to protect people._

His thoughts were interrupted by Sagara’s return. He was slightly out of breath; he must have ran. “Still waiting, huh. I’m curious, who’s that picture of?”

“Kaoru’s mother.”

“Jou-chan takes after her, huh?”

“Yes, she does.”

“…Kenshin will get her back. Don’t worry, old man.” He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself. “So long as Jin-e doesn’t use his mind trick again.”

“And what is that, exactly?” He tightly asked.

Sagara stepped back. “Uh, it’s not that big of a deal. Just felt like I couldn’t breathe for a second, but I snapped out of it. A strong will is enough, apparently.”

“I see.” That was probably the Shin no Ippou, that Himura had mentioned. Koshijiro furrowed his brow. “You believe Kaoru does not have a strong will?”

“Whoa, hang on, old man.” He suddenly looked sweaty. “It’s just that, well, out of all the people last night, only Kenshin and I broke out of the Shin no Ippou. Even the policemen couldn’t manage it.”

“No, she is not. But she had the will to stay here, while I was gone. She didn’t complain, no matter how lonely she must have been.”

 _Ah._ He wanted to groan. Over and over, his daughter had been left behind, to be alone. And for once, she had declared that she could no longer stand it. “And so, she went after Himura.”

“There you go.” Sagara said. “Anyway, I’m beat, so I’m taking the spare room.”

Then, it was quiet until Yahiko popped his head in. “I can’t stay up until midnight. Tell me when they get back, Kamiya-san.”

“You should rest. You’ve had a long day.”

“Yeah, so should you. Kenshin’s strong enough to defeat Jin-e. And Kaoru isn’t much of a girl, but she’s stubborn so that’s something.”

“She might not appreciate hearing that.”

“Whatever.” The boy shrugged. “Good night.”

The remaining hours were a blur. Koshijiro could not sleep, and restlessness took him to the porch again. He dozed in fits, waking frequently. Before he knew it, the sun was rising, and with it, two silhouettes passed the gate.

“Otou-san, we’re home!”

He exhaled, and his joints protested as he stood. “Welcome home.” Himura’s shoulder was bloody, but Kaoru was unharmed. “Thank you, Himura.”

He smiled. “This one only kept his promise.” They entered the house, and Sagara and Yahiko were barely awake. They were attempting to make breakfast, and the fish was burning.

“Geez, you two are making trouble per usual.” Kaoru rolled up her sleeves. “Look, here’s how it’s done.”

“Oh, you’re back.” Yahiko muttered, but there was a note of relief in his voice.

Sagara gave a lopsided grin. “Glad you’re back.”

“Yeah, I’m glad. But you two got some sleep, so keep cooking.” She instructed them, as if she had only been away at a friend’s and not kidnapped.

“She doesn’t seem troubled by what happened.” Koshijiro noticed. “What became of Jin-e?”

“He killed himself.” Himura quietly said.

“Then, you didn’t.”

“No. This one’s question from yesterday was answered by Kaoru-dono.”

_If a person had to kill to protect others, what is Kamiya Kasshin’s solution?_

“I see. And what is that answer?”

“It is not to give in to killing, even when it is tempting to. It is to remember that life should be protected.”

It was an ambitious and innocent answer, and only his daughter could have come up with it. It was just as fitting, for the ambitious and innocent era to which she belonged. “It is a good answer, as expected of the master.”

Kaoru had been listening, and she beamed. “Thank you, Otou-san.”

Sagara stepped over, throwing an arm over Himura. “By the way, you didn’t come back until now, huh? Nice, did you do it with her?”

Koshijiro made an excruciating turn towards them.

“We didn’t do anything!” Kaoru lunged at Sagara, and he dodged her. Meanwhile, Koshijiro left the table, heading down the hallway. He emerged with Himura’s bedding, and the man tilted his head.

“Oro? Is there a problem with this one’s futon?”

“No, you are sleeping in the shed tonight.”

“Oro!”

Sagara and Yahiko howled with laughter, and Kaoru’s face was red. “Otou-san!”

“After he sees Dr. Gensai for his wound.” It was the least he could do, for the man who had brought his daughter home.


	5. The Runaway

The following morning, Koshijiro was prepared to train the newest officers. He had ideas about how to assign them, but that would depend on their individual personalities and work ethics. He was about to depart for the police station, when his daughter came up to him.

“Otou-san, have you seen Kenshin?”

“I did not.” Breakfast had been on the table, but there was no other sign of the redhead.

“Hmm.” Her brow furrowed, and she turned on her heel, walking further into the house.

Yahiko was of more help, calling out from the yard. “Sano stopped by, he said they were going out.” At Kaoru’s dubiousness, he added. “I wouldn’t lie. If you worry this much, get Kenshin on a leash.”

She flushed. “You little brat! That’s just…ew!”

“You didn’t have to take me seriously!”

Koshijiro sternly interrupted the exchange. “The both of you should start lessons. Himura and Sagara will be fine wherever they are.”

“It’s the Shuueiya.” Yahiko informed Kaoru. “A gambling hall.”

“G-gambling hall?! Geez, they had better not lose everything.” Despite her disgruntled tone, her expression had relaxed from before. “Otou-san, do you need a bento box?”

“No, I will be in town for most of the day. I’ll be back before dinner.” He said goodbye and saw them wave as he left.

When he entered the department’s large meeting room, the chief introduced him to the group of fifteen officers. “This is former officer Kamiya-san. He recently returned from Satsuma, but he’s been with us for over ten years. He will be in charge of your training from now on.”

Fifteen pairs of eyes stared at his trailing sleeve.

“Yes, I lost my arm in battle.” Koshijiro directly addressed the matter, hoping their curiosity was satisfied. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, because they began to chatter amongst themselves. He loudly cleared his throat, and they remembered to be quiet.

Soon, he realized the group only needed to be motivated properly. They slacked off on patrols because they were bored, and it was difficult to keep their attention. When he started to lecture about the new patrol routes, they were still distracted by the novelty of his missing arm. Well, except for Kosaburo. He remained attentive the entire time, politely raising his hand when he had a question. He showed the most promise, despite his inexperience.

It was still early when Koshijiro finished lecturing, so he divided them into groups of three and assigned each a route. The young men were well-behaved as they practiced patrolling, but he would have to observe them later, when they thought he wasn’t looking. It was close to evening when he finished checking their paperwork, and handed over their next assignments.

He walked through the streets of Tokyo, alone. It had been a little over a month since his return, and already, much had changed. His daughter was the master of Kamiya Kasshin. An Ishin Shishi veteran and ex-assassin was now handling the household chores. The sole student had once been a pickpocket and their most frequent visitor was a former street fighter. In the old days, all of this would have been frowned upon. But Koshijiro did not care for the past. Now, every day was high-spirited and cheerful. Even with unexpected events, the house was a great deal livelier. He preferred it.

As if fate had read his mind, another surprise awaited him at home. Everyone was in the yard, and ignoring Himura’s spread-eagled body on the ground, he immediately singled out the one unfamiliar person, a young woman with long hair and a red-lipped smile. She wasn’t a friend of Kaoru, judging by how his daughter leveled a firm look at her.

“Takani-san, was it? I’m very sorry, but you can go home. These two idiots might have won you in gambling, but you’re free now.”

Takani didn’t budge. “Oh, I don’t want to. I like this man, you see.” She knelt, helping the half-beaten Himura to a sitting position. She tilted her head close, intimately. “I don’t want to leave his side for a second. And I’m better company than that sweaty girl, aren’t I, Ken-san?”

Himura only gave a dazed moan of ‘oro’, while Kaoru spluttered. “S-stop that!”

“What’s the matter? It doesn’t look like you’re his lover, so you don’t have a say in what he does.”

“Come on, don’t tease her so much, she’s naïve.” Sagara’s input was the last straw.

His daughter was seething in frustration, and Koshijiro stepped in. “Kaoru, you and Yahiko should change out of your uniforms. It’s getting late.” The boy was eager to acquiesce, but Kaoru flashed a glare at the other three.

“If you’d rather not stay at the house of a naïve, sweaty girl, then you can just go!”

Well, Koshijiro hadn’t been happy with how they had picked on her, but losing her temper was too far. “Kaoru!” He scolded, but she ran inside.

“Oh, it’s alright. Girls at that age can be quite testy.” Takani gave a lofty laugh, as if she were a worldly lady, instead of a girl barely older than Kaoru.

Koshijiro turned to them, and Takani stiffened. He then looked to Sagara. “Is it true about the gambling?”

“Er…yeah?” He scratched his head. “Sorry, old man, but we’d like her to stay close.” His tone wasn’t very lighthearted, foreboding rather. He was hiding something, Koshijiro was sure of it.

“Perhaps it’s best for all of you to be elsewhere, until Kaoru calms down. Takani-san, I am Kamiya Koshijiro, Kaoru’s father. You’re welcome to stay for the night, but you should know that my daughter is your hostess and she should be treated accordingly.”

“…yes.” For a moment, it was like she was hiding behind a shield, backing off to protect herself. Her smile was tight. “I’ll be a model guest.”

* * *

Koshijiro gave a stern lecture, while dinner was being prepared. “Even if you don’t like Takani-san, that is no excuse for bad manners.”

Kaoru had been slicing tofu and now, she brought the knife down heavily on the cutting board. “I was polite! It was Takani-san who was rude first. Why isn’t _she_ hearing this?”

“I do not care who started it, only that you behaved poorly and we must remedy that.” Also, he was honestly at a loss for how to deal with someone like Takani. Or this entire tug-of-war over Himura.

Meanwhile, Yahiko was listening nonchalantly. “Yeah, you were overreacting. Get a grip, moody hag.”

“That’s enough from you, young man.”

“Sorry.” He clammed up.

“But he is correct in that you overreacted. You need to be more mature, in control of your temper. The minute you lose restraint, your efforts will be for nothing. You must be clearheaded and calm, especially with those who are difficult. If you are not, they will get what they want.”

“Fine. I understand, Otou-san.” Kaoru said shortly, and it was silent, except for the thud of the knife in her hand. “Ah, then again. You tried to _punch_ Kenshin when you first met him.”

Of course, that would be brought up! But he supposed he deserved it. His own temper was a work in progress, forty-six years in the making.

Yahiko’s eyes widened. “What?”

“It was a misunderstanding. I apologized later that day, as you should, Kaoru.”

“I know, I will.” She griped, but she sounded more contrite.

An hour later, Sagara and Himura returned. Takani was with them, but she looked rattled, her eyes darting around the room. She didn’t sit down until Himura urged her to.

Kaoru was remorseful, as she set the table. “I’m sorry for snapping. It’s been a long day.”

Himura shook his head. “No, we shouldn’t have brought a guest without asking you beforehand. That was presumptuous of us.” He smiled at her, and she tentatively returned the expression.

“Good, so all’s forgiven.” Sagara grinned. “Let’s eat.”

Dinner was mostly civil, although Sagara and Yahiko’s etiquette needed polishing. Twice, Koshijiro reminded them to stop talking with their mouths full. Kaoru related the day’s events to Himura, and while he was listening to her, Koshijiro noticed his shoulders were tense. He’d have to find out what matter Takani brought to their doorstep.

“Would you like more tea, Takani-san?” He politely asked.

“Oh, no, thank you. And I’d rather not trouble you.” Her gaze was on his missing arm. “Is that recent?”

“From Satsuma.”

“Ah, so you were wounded there.” She was more alert. “Any pain or tenderness?”

“I have occasional phantom pains, but my physician has already given medicine. Aspirin, I believe.”

“No opium.” There was a note of relief in her voice.

“Dr. Oguni doesn’t trust it.”

“That’s good.” She pressed her lips together. “Well, if you feel ill, I have no qualms about hearing your concerns.” Then, she turned her attention to Himura, and the chance to question her was lost amidst her flirtations and Kaoru’s barely restrained apprehension.

After dinner, the stark jolts of pain had also returned, forcing him to excuse himself to his bedroom. He closed his eyes, focusing on breathing and slowly emptying his mind.

“Hey, old man! Your daughter’s peeping!” Sagara’s voice broke him out of meditation. Heaving a sigh, Koshijiro rose and peered out through the window into the yard.

“I wasn’t!” Kaoru said vehemently, releasing her grip on Sagara’s collar. “I was…checking in on Kenshin and Takani-san. They haven’t come out yet.” Supposedly, they were having a ‘discussion’ in one of the rooms.

“It’s not what you’re thinking.” Sagara reassured her. “He might be strong, but Kenshin’s just weak when it comes to women and children.”

“And what about you?” She countered.

His eyes darkened. “I couldn’t care less about that vixen!” It was a strangely intense reaction.

“If there’s something we deserve to know,” Koshijiro cleared his throat and stepped out. “It’d be wise to share it.”

At that moment, Himura joined them. “It’s a sensitive matter, Kamiya-dono. This one can only say that it there may be a serious incident.” He handed a slip of paper to Sagara, who unfolded it. “In this case, the fewer people involved, the better.”

Koshijiro raised his eyebrows. “It’s a matter too sensitive for the police?”

He gave that harmless smile. “Yes, for now.”

It wasn’t a very satisfactory answer, but Kaoru relented a little. “Alright. When it’s over, we’d like an explanation.”

“Of course.”

Suddenly, a cackle floated up from the floorboards. Koshijiro frowned, as Yahiko squirmed out from underneath the porch. “I heard everything! It’s not fair, I want in on this!”

“No way, you’re just a kid.” Sagara dismissed him.

“W-well, you’re just a Sanosuke!” Yahiko attempted a retort and a flying kick, which was easily blocked. 

While the others laughed, Koshijiro caught Takani’s profile, from within the house. She was looking at them, her expression inexplicably melancholy. It was odd, for the spring night was pleasant enough.

At least, until the gate blew open. Concrete and wooden splinters soared through the air.

“They’re here!” Takani’s voice was panicked.

Beyond Himura and Sagara, Koshijiro spotted a hulking shadow that had taken the place of the gate. It was a large man, who could have been a sumo wrestler in another life. He pushed aside pieces of the crumbling wall, as he ordered. “Megumi. Hand her over. I’m Hyottoko of the Oniwanbanshuu, and I might not hurt anyone else if you do what I say now.”

Tense silence followed. Koshijiro drew Kaoru and Yahiko behind him.

Hyottoko scoffed. “Well, a fight it is then. Who’s first? Either, both, it doesn’t matter.”

“Me!” Sagara roared and rushed forward. “I’ll make you talk about the opium!”

Opium? Koshijiro glanced at Takani, who was paler. A sensitive matter, the appearance of a former spy, the secrecy, her interest in physiology. She was likely a manufacturer of the drug, probably escaped from whoever handled her.

Sagara had landed a punch, but Hyottoko didn’t budge. He clicked his teeth, and in the next instant, there was blazing heat. The flames were brief, yet they blackened the grass and Sagara had to throw off his singed coat. He had been lucky, only his leg had taken the most damage.

“That’s our fire man!” There was a distant laugh. “Oil in his gut and flint in his teeth. Nothing he can’t burn!”

“Leave, Beshimi.” Hyottoko snapped, and at the base of his tongue, a drip was visible. Did that connect to where the oil was held?

“Don’t look away. I’m your opponent.” Himura called out, holding the sakabato before him.

“After I’m finished with this one, you’re next, no hurry.”

“That’s true, you can take your time with your sideshow act. It won’t touch a hair.” Himura’s goading worked, for the man was enraged enough to direct the next blast of flames toward him. But Himura wasn’t even singed, as he rapidly spun his sword.

“Oh, he’s using the wind to make a shield!” Yahiko crowed, and Koshijiro pulled him back.

“Go inside and wait there.”

“As if I could! I’m part of Kenshin’s company!”

Exasperated, Koshijiro turned to his daughter, only to see that she wasn’t there. Neither was Takani, but they hadn’t gone far.

“Going somewhere? You could at least watch those who are fighting for your sake.” Kaoru was stopping Takani, who appeared to be trying to slip out.

“Beshimi might be a different story, but Hyottoko is more typical of the Oniwabanshuu. He can’t be beaten by a regular swordsman.”

“Kenshin will win.” She said with certainty. “Because he’s not a regular swordsman.”

Indeed, Himura’s deflection had stalled the attack. Hyottoko had run out of oil, and the flames sputtered out. Then, he suddenly began to pound his stomach.

“He’s trying to refill the oil!” Kaoru realized.

“You’ll have to remove the bag in his stomach!” Koshijiro added. The height of blame could be blamed for that outburst.

However, Sagara walked up, insisting. “Thanks, Kenshin, but I’ll take care of him this time!”

“Your leg’s hurt.” Kaoru protested, but Himura retreated.

“Go ahead, Sanosuke.”

Hyottoko had also recovered, and he aimed directly at Sagara. Within the fire, Sagara’s shadow leapt. He reached into the other man’s mouth and dragged out the oil sack. His arms were covered in burns, but his good leg landed a roundhouse kick into Hyottoko’s jaw, landing the former spy.

“They’re strong.” Takani had found her voice again. “Himura and Sagara.”

“They are, and I can count on them as friends. I’m proud of them.” Kaoru beamed and headed toward them. “Are you two okay? Geez, you really are hurt.”

Exhaustion set in as the adrenaline crashed, and Koshijiro sat on the porch with a sigh. “Yes, they barely managed to win.”

“It seems like that, doesn’t it?” Himura grinned, but the revelry was cut short as he whirled around. “Beshimi is still here!”

A second ninja emerged from the trees over the wall, his face ghastly in the moonlight. This one was more the type, with cunning, angular features and short stature. He snapped his wrist, and something whistled straight towards Takani. But it never hit her.

“Watch out!” Yahiko jumped, a dart landing in the back of his hand. It would have been in Takani’s heart, otherwise.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kaoru ran to him, helping him up from the ground. “What if it was in _your_ heart? This isn’t a game, so stay back!”

“We’re all protecting her, aren’t we? I said I’m part of Kenshin’s company! Have a little…faith…in…” His words began to slur, and he collapsed once more.

 _Poison._ Dread filled Koshijiro and he hurried over as well.

Beshimi was still talking. “That’s what happens when you get involved in other people’s business! He’ll have an hour at most. You’re next, by the way-huh?” His target had been Himura, who had vanished before him. A moment later, Himura landed his ambush, striking the sakabato down on Beshimi’s head.

However, the falling poisoner’s body didn’t touch the ground. It had happened quickly, but another ninja had been present and dashed to catch his comrade. The man, wearing a Hann’ya mask, held up his hand in surrender. “We’re retreating.”

“We won’t stop you from leaving.” Himura answered. “But give us the poison’s antidote.”

“Why should we? You’re the enemy.”

Himura attacked, but the Hann’ya man stopped the blade with his gloved fist. With the other, he struck Himura, who dug his scabbard into the other man’s liver. As the Hann’ya man stumbled backwards, Himura fell to the grass and Koshijiro moved to stand near him. There was no chance to win against this ninja now, but regardless, he looked for an opening. Anything, to obtain an antidote.

But there was none, and the Hann’ya man only said. “This battle isn’t over. As long as you house Takani Megumi, we’ll be back.” With that, he quickly extricated himself, Hyottoko, and Beshimi. They seemed to melt into the darkness.

“Yahiko! Yahiko!” Kaoru and Sagara were shouting, slapping the boy’s face to keep him awake.

Koshijiro offered his hand to the grimacing Himura, helping him up. He was rather light, but his grip was still strong. As they ran over, Koshijiro inquired. “Himura, do you know what we can do?”

“This one only has experience with broken bones and sword wounds. Should we suck the poison out of the wound?”

Kaoru was prepared to, but Takani grabbed her hand. “You’ll only infect the wound. This isn’t a job for amateurs.” She knelt, fluidly taking Yahiko’s pulse and opening his eyelids. “It’s jimsonweed. Kamiya-san, help me elevate his body with pillows. You mentioned your physician Dr. Oguni. I’ll write a prescription, Kaoru can get it from him. Ken-san, I need boiled water and washcloth. And you buy ice.” She told Sagara, before turning her focused gaze on all of them. “This is a race against time. _Go!_ ”

* * *

By the time Dr. Gensai arrived, most of the debris in the yard had been cleared. Koshijiro waited outside, keeping watch in case anyone else would ambush them in this uncertain situation. But no one did, and Dr. Gensai beckoned him inside, to join his daughter and Sagara. Among the pillows on the floor, Yahiko was asleep, his forehead damp but his breathing even.

Dr. Gensai explained. “The boy will be alright in a few days. Who wrote the prescription? It was perfect, they must have studied at a Western university.”

There was a moment’s pause before Sagara gave her up. “A woman named Takani.”

“Takani? From Aizu?”

Now that Koshijiro thought about it, her accent had a trace of the mainland’s northern provinces. “Do you know her?”

“Not personally. The Takani clan is famous for being physicians, men and women alike. I heard that the last head of the family, Takani Ryuusei, sent his children to one of the new Western institutes in Nagasaki. He was courageous enough to leave his province. Then, Aizu fell; the two of you were probably too young to remember, but you do, Koshijiro.”

He nodded once. He hadn’t been part of the subjugating forces sent by the government, but he and Kyoko had mourned how many had died in the rebellion. “And I’m sure the Takani family had plenty of work on their hands.”

“They did. Takani Ryuusei died on the battlefield, his wife and sons went missing in a fire. But I heard his daughter was in Tokyo, although the doctor she worked for had an ill reputation. He was murdered by gangsters, and no one had seen her since.” Takani-san must have been that daughter, but how had she come to manufacture opium, instead of saving lives?

Then, Kaoru stood, saying grudgingly. “I should thank her. Wait, now that you mention it, I haven’t seen her since you came here.”

Sagara started. “She couldn’t have escaped again? I’ll check inside.”

“We’ll look outside.” Koshijiro offered, and Kaoru followed him.

The yard was still empty, but there were voices from beyond the destroyed gate. Himura was further along the road, perhaps to stop Takani from leaving again. She was crying, looking more like the lonely young woman she was.

“I just wanted to continue working as a doctor.” She sobbed. Evidently, Himura had also discovered her past. “I thought, if I did, my family would find me. But…it’s been ten years, and _nothing._ And the doctor here made opium, before _Kanryuu_ came.” She spat out the name. “Now I’m making opium for him instead. I tried to escape, even into death.”

The loss of her family and livelihood had driven her to desperation, yet her suicide attempt had failed. She had been lost for many years, without a true sense of purpose. Koshijiro pitied her, and it seemed his daughter did as well, pensively observing the conversation.

“However, for these three years, you produced the opium at a minimum. Yes, there were victims, but not as many as there could have been. You took on this burden, and now it’s time for you to forgive yourself. And you are alive.” Himura replied. “We will do our best to protect you and after that, you can find your own way to live on. There are many people who you could help, with your expertise. That is the only way you can atone, Takani-dono.”

Kaoru spoke up, relenting. “You saved Yahiko, and we have you to thank. The least we can do is give you a place to stay. Just for now.”

Takani wiped at her eyes, before bowing her head. “Thank you.”

For the moment, it had all ended well and Koshijiro couldn’t complain. A brisk wind blew, and he quietly said. “It’s been a long night. We should all go inside.”

Together, the four of them returned to the warmth of the house. But Sagara did not greet Takani, his expression still guarded.


	6. The House of Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, this is just in time for the next chapter of the Hokkaido arc! Which for me, is a Pretty Big Deal, considering this story. Don’t worry, I’ll continue to write it, and it’s my priority now that Eating Together, Drinking Alone is completed. *bows* Please continue to support me!

The dense, dark red ohagi were carefully arranged on a plate. They also had just the right amount of sweetness, and the red bean flavor came through nicely. Koshijiro took another bite of his.

“This is very good. Thank you, Takani-san.” Beside him, Kaoru and Yahiko eagerly worked through the rest of the sweets.

Across the table, Himura finished off the one in his hand. “Yes, they taste delicious.”

Takani smiled, cheerfully replying. “Ohagi always are, no matter who makes them. Oh, would you like some?” She turned her head, noticing Sagara standing in the door.

“There’s plenty.” Yahiko offered through his mouthful.

“I’d rather have Jou-chan’s cooking than anything made by that opium woman! I’m taking the spare bedroom, wake me up at noon.” He scoffed and turned on his heel. Takani had visibly wilted.

Koshijiro could understand Sagara’s hostility. The police were investigating multiple opium-related deaths, including that of his friend. In the ten days since Takani arrived, Sagara had rarely visited. He was conducting his own inquiries on the streets; the Spider’s Web opium was still being distributed, albeit on a reduced level. It seemed that Takeda Kanryuu was laying low for now.

Koshijiro swallowed the remainder of his ohagi, and gripped the table as he brought himself to his feet. “I’m leaving for the police station. If I find out anything official regarding this situation, I will let you all know.”

“Mmkay, Otou-san.” Kaoru’s reply was muffled.

However, when he arrived, he was waylaid by the police chief. “Kamiya-san, come into my office, I need to speak with you.”

His first thought was that Takani’s presence had been discovered and there would be dire consequences for harboring a fugitive. He stifled it, reminding himself that they had taken precautions to ensure Takani did not leave the house, and that even Sagara was unlikely to betray her. He kept a neutral expression, as he took the armchair opposite the chief.

“Would you like coffee first?” His superior officer had grown fond of the Western drink.

“No, thank you.” He declined, and braced himself.

Slowly, almost agonizingly, the chief drank from his cup before setting it down. “I wanted to delay this, but we’re going to have a personnel change. Is there anyone you’d prefer to send to Shizuoka?”

So, it was an internal matter. Koshijiro masked his relief with a frown. “How many do you need?”

“Only one. A high-ranking officer requested to be in Tokyo next month, but with the opium case, I can’t spare anyone other than a rookie.”

That was reasonable, but he was just getting to know his charges. Despite the amount of progress still needed, they were improving already. “I’ll need time to think, I’m still assessing them.”

“Of course. Come to me when you’ve made a decision.”

After he was dismissed, he left for the training yard, where the new officers were waiting. To his satisfaction, the group of fifteen stood straight and saluted, in perfect form. “Good morning, Kamiya-san!”

He let out a breath and relaxed. “Good morning, let’s get started.”

Yes, he needed time to think.

* * *

However, training was the only thing went well, for Koshijiro returned home to a tense standoff in the yard. Sagara was apart from the other three, arms folded ominously and standing to his full height.

“I refuse. You can find Kanryuu’s mansion on your own.”

“Tch, you’re being stubborn!” Yahiko blurted. “Oh, hello, Kamiya-san. Lunch is, er, not ready yet.”

“That isn’t a problem. What’s happening?”

“Megumi’s gone, she left this letter.” He held up a single sheet of paper.

Koshijiro skimmed through the brief contents, in which Takani explained she had decided to quickly depart for Aizu. “This isn’t genuine.”

“No…” Kaoru agreed. “We think she’s been kidnapped by Kanryuu, while she was at the well. But Sano…”

“Why the hell should I help her? Her opium killed my friend, and I’m not as forgiving as you are.”

Tense silence followed, before Himura quietly spoke. “During this past week, did you notice how she looked? She might have had a brave face, but at times, she appeared to be lonely, searching for those she could trust. By staying in the Kamiya dojo, she found that here. Now she needs us, and that is enough of a reason to act.”

That subdued Sagara, and after a moment, he muttered. “The middle of the day is a bad time for an ambush.”

“We can leave at sunset, but no later.”

“Fine. By the way, do you still need this, Kenshin?” He dug out a scrap of paper from his pocket. Koshijiro remembered it as the one Himura wrote, the night Takani arrived.

“No.” He answered, just as a gust of wind blew it out of Sagara’s hand.

Koshijiro caught it, ignoring the young man’s protest as he shook it open. “Thirty yakuza, ten swordsmen, ten infantry, and ten other unidentified men. This doesn’t include the Oniwanbanshuu. And the two of you will fight all of them?”

Himura gave the slightest of nods, and Sagara shrugged. “Sure, that’s the plan.”

“Are you that confident of yourself?”

The promise of a good fight seemed to encourage him, and he grinned. “Hell yeah.”

Koshijiro bluntly replied. “Well, I’m not.” With sixty opponents, they would need backup, but getting the police involved would endanger Takani’s safety…

“And that’s why I’ll help.” Kaoru stepped forward. “I don’t know if I could call her a friend, but Megumi was my guest, and under the dojo’s protection. As the master of Kamiya Kasshin, I’ll honor that commitment.”

“Sure.” Sagara wasn’t taking her seriously. “But this isn’t a sparring match, these are thugs who’ll kill you as soon as look at you. It could take the whole night. We’ll see you in the morning, for breakfast for six.”

That was belittling, and Kaoru was rightfully enraged. “Why, _you_ -! I’m _not_ your maid! Or your mother!” She lunged for him, but Koshijiro stopped her with his arm.

“Wait, Kaoru.”

Her glare was fierce. “Otou-san, let me through so I can beat him into next _month_.”

“Then, I’ll help instead!” Yahiko volunteered, worming between them. “I owe Megumi for saving my life!”

But Koshijiro grabbed his collar. “No, the three of us will stay. It’s too dangerous.”

This did not please Kaoru. “And I’m on the same level as Yahiko?”

“Both of you had narrow escapes only recently.” He had not forgotten about the recent scare, when she had been the enemy’s hostage.

“Kaoru-dono.” Himura spoke up. During the conversation, he had only been listening, yet with his posture set, as if he had already made up his mind. Evidently, he had not forgotten about Jin-e either. “Perhaps, it would be best for you to wait with Yahiko and Kamiya-dono.”

“And who’ll be there for you? Sano’s still recovering from last week’s burns, and you were injured too. That’s why I should go, who else will watch your backs?”

Yahiko squirmed in Koshijiro’s hold, indignantly adding. “What’s the point of the sword that protects life, if we can’t use it to help someone?”

Again, Kamiya Kasshin was being used to argue against him! He knew Himura and Sagara were capable, but Kaoru was also right. How long would their endurance last against sheer numbers? If his daughter and Yahiko were present, it could make a difference, but who would ensure their safety in the midst of battle?

Koshijiro released him, thinking aloud. “Then, we’ll all go. Himura-san and Sagara-san can focus on rescuing Takani-san, while Kaoru and Yahiko watch them. In turn, I’ll watch the two of you.”

Now, Himura relented. “That could work.”

Sagara shrugged. “Alright then, we’re going for a full assault. Let’s work on strategy…after I grab lunch. I’m starving…” He wandered off, past the gate and down the road.

“There were onigiri, but he doesn’t deserve them right now.” Kaoru huffed. “Well, that’s more for us. Before he comes back, Yahiko, we need to prepare too.”

“Yeah, yeah.” However, there was an excited skip to his step.

“And thank you, Otou-san.” She turned to him, with a bright smile. “For coming up with the best solution.”

“It wasn’t an easy decision.” He said, but his daughter was already entering the house, with Yahiko on her heels. “Especially after what happened, the last time she wanted to follow you.” He added, for Himura, who inclined his head.

“This one knows. It wasn’t easy for this one as well. More than anything, this one also wants her to be safe.” His gaze lingered on the house, too intently for Koshijiro’s liking.

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “So, we’ll work together, to ensure all _six_ of us will return unharmed.”

“Of course.” And there was that rurouni smile.

* * *

Takeda Kanryuu’s mansion was on the outskirts of town, and for good reason. The property could have easily consisted of three row houses, and the surrounding yard at least three more. In a time when land in Tokyo was so valuable, this was a display of opulence and waste, reflecting the characteristics of the owner. It was filthy money too, for it had been leeched from opium addicts and repaid with death.

“This place always creeps me out.” Sagara muttered and rolled his shoulders, the bones cracking. Despite his lack of a weapon, he and Himura had swiftly dispatched the two guards patrolling the street outside.

Koshijiro glanced at Kaoru and Yahiko, holding their bokken and shinai, respecitvely. “You two must stay close.” He had his own wooden sword, but he would have to rely on his years of experience, to compensate for his single arm. And failure would be unacceptable.

“Yes, we know.” His daughter stiffly nodded. Her gaze was directed ahead to the mansion.

“The question is whether Sano can keep up.” Yahiko quipped, earning him a shake from the former street fighter.

With a serious look, Himura stopped them from scuffling. He already had one hand resting on his sakabato’s hilt, ready to draw again at a moment’s notice. “We’ll rush them and take them by surprise. Let’s go.”

They ran past the gate. Shadows materialized in the darkness, becoming men loitering in the house’s courtyard. They barely had time to notice the presence of intruders, before Himura and Sagara charged forward. Sagara relied on the strength of his fists, even bowling one man into two more. Himura moved in a dynamic flurry, crouching, turning, dodging, and sliding on the grass. Swordsmen fell around him, like cut bamboo. Perhaps, this was why he didn’t flinch against the possibility of so many opponents, his fighting style was best suited for it. And it was most likely why the Ishin Shishi had employed him, Koshijiro realized.

Kaoru and Yahiko were the second wave of attack, ensuring Takeda’s men stayed down. One was in the midst of raising himself to his knees, and Kaoru soundly disarmed him, striking his hands. He howled as he let go of his sword, and Koshijiro confiscated it, raising the hilt to knock him out. As he did so, Yahiko darted past him, and soon, he was only another shadow.

Then, in the moonlight, metal gun barrels gleamed. But the infantry didn’t have time to fire, before Himura attacked. Like the others, they fell, and Sagara dove into the fray to dismantle the guns. However…

“Yahiko!” Kaoru cried out. “Where are you?”

“I’m here!” He suddenly popped up, from a bush near the groaning infantry leader. They rushed over, Kaoru soundly whacking the enemy’s head and causing him to fall face-down. Yahiko showed off a stolen pistol. “He thought he could fire this, but he underestimated a pickpocket.”

“Yes, that was useful, but next time, don’t stray so far ahead without informing anyone else.” Koshijiro warned.

“Geez, what if you were shot?” Kaoru sighed, but ruffled his hair. “But, I’m glad you took the opportunity to help Kenshin and Sano. That’s what we’re here for.”

“You don’t have to remind me!” Still, he seemed a little more puffed up.

Koshijiro looked over his shoulder, at the strewn bodies scattered across the pavement. He had been keeping count the entire time and reaffirmed the number. The infantry made fifty men in total, so that only left the Oniwabanshuu deeper within the mansion, as well as…

“Takeda Kanryuu.” Himura addressed the open window over the front doors. A thin man, with oiled hair and a pair of eyeglasses, was staring down at them in disbelief. “Give up, and come down with Megumi-dono.”

Takeda flinched, but he recovered, even applauding and laughing. “How wonderful! As expected of Hitokiri Battousai, to take out all fifty of my men just like that!”

“He knows who Kenshin is.” Kaoru whispered.

Sagara replied in the same way. “The Oniwabanshuu must have found out.”

Takeda was still talking. “I like your strength. If you joined the Oniwabanshuu, I’d be free from worry. I’ll pay you as much as fifty men, how about that? Be my bodyguard?”

But it wouldn’t sway Himura. “Are you coming down? Or not?”

“One hundred men, then?” Takeda appeared to be sweating, as Himura took another step in response. “T-two hundred…? Fine, I surrender! I’ll release her, but I need to prepare, so I’ll send her in an hour!”

“Don’t do it, Kenshin!” Yahiko hissed.

“If you come up before then, I’ll send her down _piece by piece!_ ”

It was a cowardly move, but Koshijiro acknowledged Takeda had the upper hand. Himura seemed to accept this, yet he tightened his grip on his sword. “One hour!”

“You didn’t have to listen to him.” Sagara scoffed, but Himura shortly replied.

“We can take this time to recover. Be prepared for the next fight.” He turned to Kaoru and Yahiko. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, we are.”

“Heh, we caught up with you the whole time.” Yahiko was smug.

Himura didn’t react. “What’s next won’t compare. If Sano and this one fall against the Oniwabanshuu, then run. Kamiya-dono, please retreat with them if you must.”

“I had already planned as much.” He still had his doubts about Himura and Sagara winning against the other infamous spies.

“Thank you.”

The first few minutes were spent on surveillance, to ensure there weren’t any more of Takeda’s men lurking on the property. They didn’t find any, but Koshijiro found plenty of rope in a nearby shed. “We can bind everyone in the yard, so they won’t escape. For good measure, we’ll tie them together, back to back.” It was a tedious task, but enough to pass most of the time.

Sagara paced idly, with Yahiko doing the same, before he quickly tired and stretched out on the grass. Himura stayed apart, keeping watch. A short distance away, Kaoru gazed at him, her brow furrowed, and Koshijiro approached her.

“Good work so far, Kamiya-sensei.”

“Otou-san, that sounds weird, coming from you.” She protested but visibly relaxed. “Kenshin is the one leading anyway.” She glanced at Himura once more.

“You will tense up more, if you keep looking.”

“I can’t help it. Kenshin’s angry and worried. So,” She said, with renewed ferocity. “I’ll make sure he smiles again when we’re all safe and at home! Ah!” She lowered her voice, but it was too late, Himura must have heard. Although he didn’t turn around, his shoulders slackened, almost imperceptibly. Kaoru didn’t notice, but Koshijiro did.

“As long as you keep an arm’s length between the both of you.”

“That rule again.” But she didn’t sound irritated.

After exactly one hour, they stood before the front doors. “Don’t let your guard down.” Yahiko reminded them, earning another hair ruffle, this time from Sagara.

“We don’t need to hear that from you.” He kicked upon the doors, which were unlocked. It made for an overly dramatic entrance, fitting the grandeur of the first floor. But the gilt-edged walls and tile floors were hardly noticed.

The Hann’ya man stood in the middle of the hallway. “Hann’ya, of the Edo Castle’s Oniwabanshuu. I will guard this post, in accordance with the Okashira’s wishes.”

“This one would like to avoid an unnecessary fight. Will you stand down?”

“The Okashira’s commands are absolute.” Hann’ya threw his fists together, and a clang resounded.

“That sounds like gauntlets. No wonder Kenshin fell down when he was hit.” Sagara muttered, as the masked man slid into a familiar stance.

“Kempo.” Kaoru informed Yahiko, who had been puzzled by it. “Such a skill will help in stopping blows, as the gauntlets absorb the shock.”

Koshijiro was paying attention to the man’s arms instead. The combination of red and black was unusual and the stripes even more for a spy, who had to prize discretion. “I’m more curious about those tattoos…”

With complete concentration, Himura held his sword before him. “Then, this one won’t hold back.”

“The same for me.” Hann’ya charged, fist first.

But surprisingly, Himura was thrown off. He was punched, then backhanded, landing on the tiles. Hann’ya posed to strike again, and Himura moved back, retreating.

“Kenshin, what’s wrong?” Kaoru almost stepped towards him, before restraining herself. Sagara didn’t say anything, his expression confused.

Yahiko was harsher. “What are you doing, getting beat up like this? What about reading the next move with Hiten Mitsurugi?”

“This one is. Just now, this one dodged by a small margin. At the last second, it seemed like his arm…became longer.” Himura said, deep in consideration. Then, he adjusted his stance, his feet apart and arms outstretched, with the sakabato pointing straight ahead.

“Sei-gan stance?” Yahiko suggested, but Kaoru corrected him.

“It’s the shin-ken stance, ‘the sword that believes’, for complete defense and quick response. It’s very traditional kenjutsu.”

“You haven’t taught him yet?” Koshijiro asked. He had trained his daughter well, in recognizing the old schools.

“…It’s next on the lesson plan.”

Hann’ya was disappointed. “It’s a coward’s last resort. You could never face the Okashira with that, so I will kill you right here.” He charged again, but this time, Himura dodged and aimed for the forehead. He didn’t miss, and Hann’ya staggered, holding his mask.

“He did it!” Yahiko whooped, and Sagara grinned.

“You figured it out, didn’t you, Kenshin?”

“Yes. Kamiya-dono was right to be curious about the tattoos. They are why this one was hit earlier, the sideways pattern creates an optical illusion.”

“Oh, so things look shorter and fatter than they are, and you misjudged the distance.” His tone was so casual, it was as if he knew the secret the entire time.

“So the sakabato was like a ruler, because you know how long that is!” Yahiko jumped in.

A high-pitched clink interrupted them. Hann’ya let his hands down, letting more fragments of his mask fall to the floor. Now, Koshijiro could understand why he had worn the mask. His face was terribly disfigured, as if he was the victim of an unfortunate accident that had taken his nose and lips. One eye was permanently squinted, his cheekbones sunken in.

“He’s a demon.” Yahiko was frightened, and the others were also shaken.

“It’s a convenient face.” Hann’ya grinned, all his teeth overly sharp. “With it, I can become anyone. It is my usefulness to Aoshi-sama, along with these.” He snapped his wrists, and kagitsume, like three cat claws, unsheathed on each hand. He attacked, stretching a deadly hand towards Himura.

The sakabato flew upwards, catching between two of the long blades. Then, Himura pushed him back, before dealing the finishing blow. His arm was nicked in retaliation, but Hann’ya himself crumpled. “You’re no match…for Aoshi-sama…” He didn’t speak again, and now, they could proceed past him.

“Kenshin, is it a deep cut?” Kaoru fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, preparing to tear it.

Himura shook his head. “No, the bleeding is already stopping. More importantly, Megumi-dono’s waiting for us. Let’s hurry.”

They continued on, and the staircase to the second floor appeared to be unguarded. But that wasn’t the case. Six more men had been waiting, although they appeared to be extremely reluctant. Koshijiro supposed they had been coerced by the Oniwabanshuu, to make up the final ten. Their clothing was shabby, and if they were poor, Takeda’s money would have enticed them. However, even though it was unlikely they had seen bloodshed, they still had the bearing of swordsmen.

Kaoru straightened. “This, I can handle. Kenshin, you and Sano get Megumi!”

“This one will trust you and Yahiko!” He replied, as he and Sagara sprinted their way to the upper floor.

“We’ll leave the small fry to you!” Sagara sounded cocky, but he suddenly stopped. There was a heavy thud.

“Sano?!” Yahiko called out. From what they could see, Sagara was holding something heavy, and his opponent was a heavily muscled man with many scars on his body. Himura had darted past, down the hallway.

“Stop worrying about me, and _focus!_ ” At the last word, Sagara threw what was in his grip, and a heavy metal ball bore into the adjacent wall. The Oniwabanshuu’s cronies flinched; they really had never been in a true fight. But that made them suitable targets for a bokken and a shinai.

The noise of Sagara’s match with the next Oniwaban member faded into the background, as the cronies ran forward. The first man received a blow to the head by Kaoru, but the second man drew his blade. In perfect form, Kaoru crouched, crossing her wrists above her head and catching the blade with the backs of her hands. Hadome. She still kept a firm grip on her own bokken, taking the second step to strike. “Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu Succession Technique: Hawatari!” She moved quickly and powerfully; the man struck the floor hard.

How many times had Koshijiro seen her practice the Hadome and Hawatari, against the dojo’s other students? They had complained how often she wanted to beat them, but she insisted she needed to perfect the techniques. She still wasn’t ready, before he left for Satsuma, yet he was glad he was here, to see his daughter perform them now.

Yahiko managed to take down one on his own, scrambling up the man’s back and striking his knees. Kaoru demonstrated the succession techniques with the fourth man, and Yahiko joined her to help with the fifth. The last man tried to retreat, but Koshijiro blocked him. He swung the bokken, moving his left foot forward and grounding himself to that point of contact. There, his balance was corrected, and he hit the man’s temple. He turned cross-eyed for a moment, swaying, then dropping.

“That’s all of them.” Koshijiro reported and nodded at Kaoru. “Those were perfect examples of Hadome and Hawatari.”

“Well, I feel like the master of Kamiya Kasshin now, since I won against opponents with the succession techniques.” She beamed. “And it sounds like Sano’s done, so we should join him.”

To their surprise, Sagara was collapsed on the floor. Yahiko proceeded to slap him. “Sano, are you dead?”

“As if.” He groaned. He had a bad head wound, blood trickling down his face. “Shikijou was strong, it was a good fight.” The muscled man was limp, lying near the stairs. “Kenshin went to fight Shinomori Aoshi, they should be in the ballroom.”

“There’s a ballroom?” Kaoru’s eyes widened. “For dancing?”

“I don’t think they’re dancing in there, but yeah. I don’t know how Kenshin’s doing.”

“We’ll know when we meet up with him.” She firmly said. “Yahiko, let’s help him up.” They each took an arm and supported him so he could stand.

Koshijiro drew out his handkerchief, and pressed it to Sagara’s scalp. Red immediately seeped into the cloth. “We’ll have you see Dr. Gensai after this.”

“Thanks, old man.” His grin was also bloody.

Sudden, rapid gunfire roared through the mansion, and they all froze.

“W-what was that?” Yahiko expressed their collective nervousness.

“It sounds like it came from the ballroom.” That voice did not belong to any one of them, and they were startled by Hann’ya, walking up the stairs. Sagara started, but the man lifted his hand. “The Oniwabanshuu loses honorably. Back to the present matter, I am concerned about Aoshi-sama. Don’t you feel the same, Shikijou?”

The muscled man rose with effort. “I feel like I shouldn’t have to see your face, first thing when I wake up.”

“I see you’re alright.” He scoffed but offered a hand to his comrade. Off the battlefield, they seemed to get along.

The gunfire continued, and they drew closer to the ballroom. The doors were open, and Koshijiro went ahead, glimpsing inside. Kanryuu was cackling wildly, cranking a Gatling gun. Where he had obtained it, Koshijiro had no idea, but he was elated, screaming two syllables as he swung the barrel around. There was another man, running back and forth. This had to be Shinomori Aoshi, the leader of the Oniwabanshuu. He was surprisingly young, with a smooth but cold face. Himura was a little bloodier, bleeding from his head as well, but he was still able to dodge the bullets. “Himura-san is in there, he’s alive.” However, his sakabato was on the other side of the room.

“Thank goodness.” Kaoru breathed. “But the gunfire…”

“Don’t move.” He warned. “It’s far too dangerous.” The smell of gunpowder unpleasantly reminded of the Satsuma battlefield.

Yahiko tilted his head. “Are those police whistles?”

Koshijiro strained his ears, confirming the distant sound. “Yes, they are.” Two of his own officers were patrolling tonight, and certainly around this time, they would be approaching this area. Apparently, they had heard the gunfire, and were alerting others for backup. “That’s good, they can take Kanryuu into custody.”

“And Megumi?”

Kaoru answered. “We’ll have to find her first. Could she be in the observation tower?” A fresh wave of gunfire stopped them from moving.

“We’re gonna get killed before we find her!” Yahiko shouted.

“Kanryuu! What are you doing?” Koshijiro faintly registered an unfamiliar voice from the ballroom, probably Shinomori’s.

“You dare addressing me with a title?! It’s Takeda-sama!” The gunfire changed pitch, indicating the barrel had turned, but it was also accompanied with a thud.

“Okashira!” Hann’ya rushed into the ballroom, Shikijou after him. Shinomori’s thighs were bleeding, he could no longer stand.

Takeda had stopped firing for now, gloating over his success. “Ha! You wanted the title of the strongest, you wanted to take it from Hitokiri Battousai! But neither of you are, it’s me! With the revenue from my opium, I can buy an entire line of Gatling guns! It’s money that rules the world, it’s money that gives power! So you can all just roll over and die!” He aimed again at Shinomori, who could not move. But Shikijou dove in front of him.

“No!” The sound of bullets did not echo.

This time, Koshijiro was pushed aside by Sagara, who stared at the scene in the ballroom. His former opponent was now dying, his body riddled with bullets as he still continued to shield his commander. “Shikijou…”

Kaoru and Yahiko took advantage of Koshijiro’s unobstructed left side, peeking in as well. “Oh, no…” His daughter gasped. Yahiko’s eyes were wide, and even Himura was shocked, standing still.

Shinomori’s expressionless demeanor had shattered. He shook his head, in denial. “Shikijou, you…”

“I…am…content…to serve…you…until the end.” Shikijou exhaled, and then, he dropped to his knees.

Takeda tsked, preparing to fire again. “He should have been pulverized.”

The other door to the ballroom flew open, Hyottoko standing there. “Then, I’ll be your opponent! If you’d like to be blown up!” If a bullet hit the oil sack…they’d go up in flames. Koshijiro eyed the stairs, the nearest exit route.

But Takeda had anticipated and aimed, right at Hyottoko’s head. A spray of blood bloomed from one eye. “Heh…he got me…” He seemed resigned, as he fell.

“Hyottoko!” Shinomori cried out, then blinked at the shadow rising from the man’s back. “…wait, Beshimi!”

The poisoner leapt in the air, but before he could throw a single dart, the Gatling gun started again. He hit the floor, still grinning at his commander. “Okashira…sorry….we weren’t…much help…” Then, he was gone as well.

Shinomori was distraught, blankly staring in shock. His men had greatly respected him, but now, Koshijiro could see he cared for them in turn.

But Takeda still had bullets left and gladly made it known. Koshijiro moved out of the line of fire, herding Kaoru and Yahiko with him. Sagara dove as well. Meanwhile, Hann’ya and Himura moved in opposite directions within the ballroom. Himura reached his sakabato, but Hann’ya received the full force of the attack. Unlike the others, he didn’t make a sound, his expression twisted in final defiance. Neither did Shinomori, who doubled over, as if surrendering at last.

Takeda swiveled the gun towards Himura. “Hmph, you used him as a decoy, Hitokiri Battousai. But you just delayed the inevitable, it’s your turn! Huh?” Instead of bullets, there was only a clicking sound when he cranked.

“What’s happening?” Kaoru demanded, struggling to see past Koshijiro. “Otou-san! How many bullets are left?”

“None, it looks like.” There were so many shells scattered on the ballroom floor, and that must have been why the Oniwabanshuu sacrificed themselves: to accept all the bullets, so their commander’s life would be preserved.

Himura drew his sakabato, his glare intense. “You’ve been firing all this time, and it was the Oniwabanshuu that defeated your Gatling gun. Now…where’s your money to help you?”

Takeda cursed, still trying to fire without avail. Himura closed the distance, stopping the opium dealer with an upward blow to the face. His teeth were loose, and they rattled as he jerked backwards. The thud of his body could have been hollow.

Shinomori had forced himself to stand, his face turned away. He had to be left alone in his grief, and they quietly shuffled past him, to the observation tower.

“ _That’s_ not a small wound.” Kaoru bit her lip at the three slashes on Himura’s front.

“Yes, but we need to hurry. The police will be here soon.” He waved away Sagara’s hand, and walked with the rest of them.

There was a single locked door at the end of the hallway, and Koshijiro stepped forward. “This will save time. Allow me.” He used his own weight to break down the flimsy door. Takani was alone, with a knife in her hands.

“Oh, good, no ambush.” Yahiko was satisfied, looking around at the mostly empty room.

“Yahiko, Sanosuke? Kamiya-san, you’re here, and even Kaoru. And…Ken-san. You’re injured.”

“We had trouble, but at least, you are safe.” Himura replied.

Takani looked at all of them, her red mouth turning downwards. “I’m sorry, I involved all of you in this. This dangerous mess. But…” She drew the knife, pressing the blade’s edge against her wrist. “I won’t bother you anymore. I…regret many things, but not meeting you. Thank you.”

“Wait!” Himura lunged forward.

“Takani-san!” Koshijiro called out, but Sagara reached her first. His own hand closed around the knife, preventing it from touching her. He ignored his bleeding hand, as he raised his voice.

“You…you idiot! Kenshin, Yahiko, Jou-chan, even the old man risked their lives to rescue you! You wanna waste their efforts, throw your life away when we worked this hard?!” He spat, pulling the knife away from her.

“But…what can I do? What’s left for me, when I made opium that killed people? There’s only death-”

“If you die, that doesn’t mean you can bring your victims back.” Himura interjected. “You can atone by dying, but you can also atone by saving others. That is the answer this one found.”

Takani stared for a moment, and then, she began to cry in earnest. No one said anything else, as they left the empty observatory room. It had been a long, sad night in this house of death, but at last, it had come to an end.

* * *

It was definitely fortunate that Takani had safely returned with them, because they were all injured. The worst off were Himura and Sagara, who had been treated with her family’s traditional medicine. Yahiko had a cut on his cheek, and Kaoru’s fingers were bandaged, from catching blades.

“Kaoru-dono, your fingers.” Himura bent his head, eyeing her clasped hands on the table.

“Oh, don’t worry, it was just from the Kamiya Kasshin techniques. It’s nothing compared to your injuries.” But she blushed, her gaze darting away to see who just entered. “Ah, Sano and Yahiko, you’re finally up! Do you want breakfast?”

“That depends. Did you cook it?” Sagara yawned.

“Well…yeah.”

“Then, no way!” Yahiko stuck his tongue out at her.

“You two, after I worked so hard-!” She stood, but Himura held her off, grabbing her shoulders from under her raised arms. His chest was touching her back.

“Now, Kaoru-dono…everyone is still recovering.” He was saying, but Koshijiro could hardly hear him over the roar in his ears. This contact was far too close! Over the line!

Koshijiro narrowed his eyes. “Arm’s length, Himura-san.” He maintained a pointed look, until Kaoru sat down again and Himura’s hands were to himself.

Takani noticed. “Oh ho! You’re restricted. That means it would be alright if it’s me…”

“You better not!” Kaoru was indignant, and Koshijiro wasn’t sure whether they could survive the certain storm between the girls.

However, only a few days later, they were bidding Takani farewell at the door. She was moving on, citing the house’s limited space. Furthermore, she had a new job in the city.

Yahiko waved, with both hands. “See you around!”

“Enjoy working.” Sagara offhandedly said, but that made her smile.

“Good luck, Megumi-dono.” Himura cheerfully said, and Takani’s smile widened even more.

Kaoru had decided to be generous. “You can visit us when you’d like.”

“Thank you.” She blinked, surprised. “And thank you, Kamiya-san. I look forward to working with Dr. Gensai.”

“He’s been searching for a suitable apprentice, so I think this should work out well.”

“I hope so. Ah, that sounds like them.” There was loud chatter from Dr. Gensai’s granddaughters, presumably just behind the gate. She wryly smiled and bowed. “Then, goodbye, everyone.”

“I’ll see you off.” Kaoru offered, and when they walked together, they almost looked like friends.

Himura turned to Koshijiro. “Thank you, Kamiya-dono, for settling Megumi-dono’s innocence with the police.”

“It helps that I was at the scene, and Takeda Kanryuu isn’t known for being truthful. Takani-san also has no evidence tied to her.” That could be faulted on Takeda, who most likely hid any trace of his manufacturer to protect his asset. In that end, that saved her.

“But what about Shinomori Aoshi?” Yahiko wondered aloud. “Didn’t you say he was missing?”

“Yes, he disappeared, along with the heads of the Oniwabanshuu.” The four bodies had been decapitated, a trail of blood leading to a secret passageway. Shinomori was assumed to have escaped into the surrounding area.

“It’s very likely, that we will see him again.” Himura mused aloud. “He still wants to be the strongest, and now that this one is tied to the deaths of his comrades…”

It was possible that Shinomori had set his sights on Himura. Hopefully, another fight would not be for some time. “For now, we are still investigating.”

“If you say so.” Sagara remained dubious. “No offense, but the opium investigation wasn’t that great. Still, at least Kanryuu’s been charged for my friend’s death. That’s something.”

“We’ll do our best. Speaking of which, I need to settle one more matter with the chief today.” He explained and later set out, in the afternoon.

He still remembered the night at Takeda’s mansion. They had come downstairs to see the police arrests in action, and Officers Tanaka and Abe greeted him.

“Kamiya-san, you’re here!”

“Yes, and so are you. Were you the ones who called for backup?” They affirmed that they were, and he approved. “Good work, you two.”

But to his surprise, the other thirteen were present, taking Takeda’s men into custody. Officer Shinichi was eager to participate, bowing briefly when he saw Koshijiro before returning to questioning an infantryman. All of his officers were helping in various ways, accepting responsibilities to alleviate the serious situation. They were still novices, but efficient novices. When he returned to his duties, he would treat them to a meal at the Akabeko. And that meant they all needed to be present.

For the second time this month, he entered the chief’s office, and his boss was pleased to see him. “It’s busy, but it’s good, now that Takeda Kanryuu’s finally in custody. And you had no small part in it.”

“Well…the raid was led by Himura-san.”

The chief nodded, understanding. “That’s expected of a veteran, who was on the front lines. But you are our representative, and I commend your officers for arriving on the scene so quickly. They were among the first ones there, calling for backup and locking down the perimeter. Shinomori did escape, but he was a spy, after all. And we have the other fifty.”

“That’s true.” Koshijiro paused. “I have my answer, regarding the personnel change.”

“Yes?”

“All fifteen of them behaved admirably, and I hesitate to end anyone’s training when they show such promise. I don’t think I can spare any one of them at the moment.”

The chief smiled. “I see. I’ll contact the other department and find out if they have other options. In the meantime, rest up so you can return to us soon.”

“I will, thank you.” And with that, he headed out into the street. The spring air was warm from the day’s sunshine, and he turned his feet towards home.


	7. Interlude: Cicadas in Spring

In the start of April, the weather was unpredictable, warm one day and chilly the next. Colds were going around, and Koshijiro had developed a cough. Fortunately, he didn’t have a fever, but he made the decision to stay home, to prevent infecting his colleagues. Three days of hot broth and tea had helped, yet the cough still lingered.

From within his room, he heard his daughter calling out. “Yahiko! Yahiko…you’re not him! Geez, the two of you have similar hair.”

“Tch, lay off.” That was Sagara’s voice. He must have arrived this morning.

For the past couple of weeks, Yahiko had been skipping practice. It was infrequent, but he didn’t mention a word to Kaoru and that was unacceptable behavior from a student. Koshijiro wound a scarf around his neck, before checking further within the house. There was no sign of the boy anywhere, his bed had been made and his shoes were missing as well. Koshijiro turned towards the porch, where his daughter was sitting. Himura had both hands in soapy water and laundry, as Sagara chewed on the remnants of a grilled fish.

Kaoru greeted him. “Good morning, Otou-san. Yahiko’s not hiding inside, is he?”

“No, I didn’t see him.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “He’s disappeared again. I wonder what he’s doing…”

“I bet he’s gone to meet a girl.” Sagara gave a sly smile.

“No way. With the way he eats, it’s more likely to be food.”

“Or he could be training.” Himura suggested. He looked particularly contemplative, or maybe, it was because he was scrubbing at a stain. “By now, he should be thinking more about the sword.”

It remained a mystery, for Yahiko didn’t return until late afternoon. Surprisingly, he endured Kaoru’s scolding without much of a fight. “I was in town, okay?”

“And what were you doing?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m at the dojo, four out of six days a week.” That answer didn’t seem to please Kaoru, and she looked even more frustrated.

Koshijiro chose not to step in. It was best she had to deal with this issue herself, as a teacher. He also had his own idea about Yahiko’s absences: that the boy had taken on a job for pay. He could understand wanting pocket money. When he was at that age, he had tried to save up on his own. Although, that was because of his circumstances at the time…

Yahiko was let off with a warning, although he brushed it off. As he trudged to the bathhouse, Koshijiro said to his daughter. “I hope you have a plan to deal with him further.”

“Oh, I do. Next week, we’re going to follow him into town. You, me, Kenshin, and Sanosuke. He won’t notice at all.”

It sounded risky, but in the end, curiosity won out. Once Yahiko crept past the gate, they followed some distance behind. His shinai was strapped to his back, but that didn’t compensate for his poor surveillance skills, as he only looked to the left and right. He was acting suspicious too, meandering here and there through the streets.

Himura had been in front and he stopped. “Oro? The Akabeko?” Yahiko had slipped inside, barely moving the doors.

“Ah, so it was food!” Kaoru clenched a fist in victory.

But when they entered, the restaurant was empty, save for a few customers. Tae noticed them, waving. “Hello, everyone! Would you like a table?”

“In a minute.” Kaoru explained. “We’re looking for Yahiko.”

“You just missed him. I sent him to get more charcoal from the back.”

“Is he working here?”

“Mm, only errands. Although…I was supposed to keep it a secret.” Concern touched her expression. “Is he in trouble?”

“No, it’s fine. But why would he do something like this?”

Sagara stood on tiptoe, peering past them. “I might have an idea.” He jerked his chin towards a young girl around Yahiko’s age. She wore the uniform of a waitress, and she had delicate features and short hair.

Tae murmured. “That’s Tsubame, she started a few days after Yahiko did. Tsubame? Can you help Yahiko with the charcoal?”

“Yes, Tae-san.” She was a little nervous, quickly bowing before running to her destination.

“Oh, dear, I hope she doesn’t trip over herself.”

“She seems like a good worker.” Koshijiro noted, as the others crowded around the back door. Yahiko was shouldering a sack of charcoal, but they were out of his line of sight. Tsubame had fallen, and he lifted her bag for her.

Tsubame scrambled to her feet, looking more mussed than before. “I’m sorry, Yahiko-chan.”

“I don’t like being called that.” He grumbled. “And stop being so jumpy. ‘Discipline your movements.’ That’s part of swordsmanship.” He was saying the last more to himself, as he adjusted the weight of both bags.

Avoiding Yahiko’s entrance, they recouped in the dining area. There was no danger of being sighted now, for Tae said that his duties were anything but cooking and serving.

Sagara counted off his fingers. “A girl, food, training. Well, we were all kind of right, but there’s no clear motive to _start_ working here.”

“I give him a small salary. He could be helping out with household expenses.” Tae said, which Kaoru and Sagara quickly dismissed.

“No way!”

“That brat wouldn’t.”

Tae looked dejected, and Koshijiro told her. “It was a good guess. However, we were unaware he was being paid.” He turned away, his throat acting up again, and was overtaken by a sudden fit of coughing.

“Here, Kamiya-dono.” Himura had refilled his cup. “More tea will help.”

“Thank you.” He managed to reply, before forcing down the hot liquid.

“I’ll make another pot.” Tae excused herself. As she walked back to the kitchen, she passed Tsubame, who was hurrying to assist another table.

When the girl saw the occupants, she took a step backwards, her eyes wide. She looked about, clutching her skirt. “Um, I’ll lead you to the outhouse.” She seemed very small, compared to the three men who followed her. The door slammed behind them.

“…This one will return shortly.” Himura grabbed his sword and left the table.

After a pause, Koshijiro stood. “I’ll go as well.” He had a suspicion that Tsubame’s nervousness this time was because of those customers. As expected, the only one near the outhouse was Himura. He glanced at Koshijiro, lifting a finger to his lips. Quietly, they headed down the nearby side street. 

A couple of turns later, Koshijiro furtively looked around a corner, at the ensuing scene. There were five more men now, and they were armed with bokken. They had ganged up on Yahiko, beating him as he curled on the ground. Tsubame cried out, begging them to stop.

Anger rose within Koshijiro. Yahiko was only a child, and he didn’t have much of a chance against these brutal men. But Himura had his sakabato and wasn’t moving.

There was a hiss from behind them. “Are you just going to stand there?” Sagara nudged Himura with his foot. “Don’t just watch.”

Kaoru had also joined them, pushing them aside. “Then, I’ll go. He’s my student, I’m responsible for him.”

“One moment.” Himura tugged at her ponytail, too briefly for Koshijiro to remind him about the rule. “This is something Yahiko must do on his own.”

“What are you talking about? He’s in danger.”

“If we step in, he’ll know we were following him. And if you are always rescued, you’ll never become strong. We should only help him, when he asks for it.”

Koshijiro acknowledged Himura’s perspective, and he had to side with it. It was true that Yahiko was still young, but he had responsibilities as a student of the sword. And because of them, he had to be mature, early on. Quietly, Koshijiro admitted. “Himura’s right, these lessons are valuable and can only be learned through experience. However, we’ll continue to watch him.”

The men had stopped, once Tsubame gave them what they wanted. It was a key-shaped model, and the leader, a man with droopy eyes, snickered as they walked away. Tsubame ran over to a wincing, bruised Yahiko.

He wiped the corner of his mouth, his sleeve coming away with smeared blood. “They’ll only need a day to make a replica of the key. They’ll break into Tae’s house tomorrow night.”

“Yahiko-chan. Oh, I mean, Yahiko-kun…”

“No, I don’t care. I couldn’t beat them, could I?” He sounded terribly bitter. “Don’t worry about me, I decided to help you. And I’m not giving up.”

In silence, they watched him, as he limped down the street. It _was_ his fight. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be around, if he needed them.

* * *

The following morning was just like yesterday, except there was some kind of contraption in the yard. A log had been propped up, two bamboo poles crossed at its top. Four wooden planks hung down from each of the four ends.

Koshijiro sipped his second cup of tea. “Did you make this, Yahiko?”

He was stretching, rotating his shoulders. “Yeah, it’s, uh, a new way of training. For many enemies at once.”

“It won’t be much use. Think about it.” On the porch, Kaoru propped her chin in her hands. “The boards move in a fixed way, it’s not like how people move. They think and plan, and make complicated, coordinated attacks. This will just help your reflexes.”

Yahiko tapped his shinai in his hand. “If you know all that, then what should I do instead?”

That was outside of Kaoru’s experience. Even in Kanryuu’s mansion, her opponents had been fought one at a time. She hesitated. “Well, you should…make it one on one.”

“That’s not any help!”

“It is, actually.” Himura spoke up, from his spot near the laundry tub. “If you’re faced with a group, run away.” Yahiko was about to protest, but Himura continued. “Or rather, make it seem like you’re running away. As they follow you, it will be more apparent, who’s slower or faster. That way, you can take them on one at a time, as long as you have speed and stamina.”

“Oh. I get it now.” Yahiko paused, considering the concept. “What about you, Kamiya-san? You fought in wars too. Any advice?”

“Rely on your practice. Kaoru’s taught you well, don’t put it to waste.”

He glanced at Kaoru. “Okay.”

“And remember something else that’s important.” She said. “Kamiya Kasshin is the sword that protects. That’s why you can’t fail or surrender, for the sake of whoever you’re fighting for.”

He nodded, looking more resolute. “I understand.”

In the end, the contraption was only used for honing reflexes. It was useful in that respect, but not very sturdy, and it was taken down before dinner. The sky grew dark over the house, and Yahiko slipped out, thinking he had been discreet. However, they did notice, and Sagara and Himura departed to tail him. Kaoru paced back and forth for a while, until at last, she picked up her own bokken. “I said all I could, but I’m still worried.”

“And that’s perfectly fine. You wouldn’t be a good teacher otherwise.”

She smiled. “Then, let’s go. Just in case, of course.” Her ponytail bobbed as she walked past the gate, and Koshijiro remarked.

“Have you thought about wearing your hair in a bun?”

“Not really, why?”

“So Himura isn’t tempted to pull it.”

“ _Otou-san_ …”

“He acted like a schoolboy yesterday.”

She gave a distasteful expression. “Kenshin _isn’t_ a schoolboy. I thought you two were getting along!” She stomped further ahead, before halting. “Is that…?”

A familiar, short-haired girl huddled in the shadow of a building, peering around its corner. She hadn’t seen them, her attention on a dark alley.

“Yes, that appears to be Tsubame.” Koshijiro said. “But this isn’t near the Akabeko, it’s a dead end.”

“I know.” Kaoru went over to her, clasping her shoulder. “Good evening, although it isn’t very safe at night.”

Tsubame jumped. “Who are you?”

“I’m Yahiko’s teacher. I know what’s happening, and I thought you might be here to try and stop those men.”

She looked down. “Mikio-sama, or rather, Nagaoka-san belongs to the family mine served for generations. I didn’t know how to refuse him. So, I thought if I could stop them, Yahiko-chan wouldn’t be hurt.”

“Right now, it seems like it’s too late. He’s made it all the way here, to fight them off. You’ll have to trust Yahiko, and make a promise to yourself.”

“A promise?”

“That if Yahiko wins, you will also be stronger. This is a new era, and the four classes are equal. Your heart must reflect that, and if Nagaoka comes back to you, tell him no from the beginning. You’re not obligated to serve him, your duty is to what you believe is right. That’s how you have to live now.”

Abruptly, seven men ran out from around the corner. As they rushed past, Koshijiro heard them muttering ‘Battousai’ and ‘Zanza’. So, the other two were nearby, showing their presence. He glimpsed into the alley, but Yahiko was still fighting the leader. Nagaoka lunged, aiming low.

“Yahiko-kun!” Tsubame called out, no longer hiding. She stood straight, facing him. “Please, win!”

With a shout, Yahiko threw his weight on his right foot, stopping Nagaoka’s bokken. It snapped on the ground, and as Nagaoka faltered, Yahiko seized the opportunity for a head strike. He had won, decisively so.

Kaoru stepped over Nagaoka’s unconscious body, beaming at Yahiko. “You did it! As expected of my first student!” She was so proud, she hugged him.

“W-what? Get off!” He spluttered and twisted away. “Wait. If _you’re_ here, then that means…” He whipped around.

Koshijiro caught a flash of movement from the closest rooftop, and then, an incredibly poor imitation of cicadas humming.

“There aren’t cicadas in spring!” Yahiko ground out. “Kenshin and Sano!”

They emerged, appearing nonchalant. Himura rubbed the back of his head. “Oro…”

“It wasn’t any of your business. Were you watching the whole time?”

“Yeah, and you weren’t half bad.” Sagara ruffled his hair. “Nice work.”

Himura also smiled. “Yes, you used your surroundings and your training to your advantage. It was good swordsmanship. Well done.”

“Hmph. Anyway, I got the key mold. I was thinking it can be evidence, but, er, Tsubame…” It was possible that she would be in trouble for assisting Nagaoka.

Gently, Kaoru said. “We don’t have to involve Tsubame with the police. As for her job, Tae’s very fair, but it’s late. I’ll escort Tsubame home.”

“Then, take care.” Himura then offered. “We’ll wait for the police, so we can turn in the potential burglar.”

Tsubame didn’t move immediately. “Um, thank you, Yahiko-kun.” There may have been a slight blush on her cheeks.

“I didn’t help you to be thanked.” But he toed the dirt, slightly flustered. “Er…shy and awkward people rub me the wrong way.”

“Yes, so I’m not going to be as shy and awkward.” They exchanged a glance, before she gave a little wave. “I’ll see you at the Akabeko tomorrow.”

Koshijiro and Kaoru went with her, although they weren’t out of earshot, when Sagara demanded. “So, why _were_ you working? You’ve been keeping this secret the whole time.”

“Alright, alright. I want to buy a sakabato, for when I’m as good as Kenshin.” There was a raucous burst of laughter from Sagara, making Yahiko add. “This is exactly why I kept it a secret! D-don’t tell anyone else!”

However, his voice was loud in the quiet evening, and they heard, Kaoru stifling a laugh. So, he _was_ saving up. And that meant…

“Ah, I won.”

“Kamiya-san?” Tsubame blinked. “Did you say something?”

“It’s nothing of importance.” But still, he smiled as they walked on.


	8. Crossing Swords

It wasn’t very often, that Koshijiro dreamed of Chiba.

This one started with blank darkness, giving way to the empty courtyard. As if through water, he heard the muffled noises of training, of shouts and the hollower echoes of bamboo against bamboo. He prepared to enter the dojo, but instead of seeing his daughter and Yahiko, he found himself in a completely different space. The walls were darker with age, and the floorboards worn from repeated use. Rows of numerous placards, each with a student’s name, stretched onwards, and the foremost sign bore the kanji of the teacher’s name. Motomiya Takato.

This was the dojo of Koshijiro’s most prominent kenjutsu instructor. And this was where he first met-

His left arm, whole and restored, was suddenly tugged before him. Holding his hand was a very familiar young woman. As much as he treasured his wife’s portrait, the only likeness of her he had, it couldn’t compare to his memory of her. In this dream, she was in her peak health, during the days of their early acquaintance. Her eyes were the color of a summer sky, and her smile was so tender.

“Kyoko…” Even in the dream, his heart physically ached.

Her mouth quirked in amusement. “Kamiya-kun, you shouldn’t get in trouble with my father. Now, go on, lessons are starting soon.” She pulled him towards the floor, but he turned, clasping her shoulders.

“I’d rather not see him. I should stay with you.” Anything, to make her last a little longer.

“He has his faults, but he isn’t cruel. Or is it that you feel guilty?” She blinked, and she aged, to her late twenties. Her concerned face was in startling clarity. “He never knew, did he? Before he passed…”

“I know, and I regret that. And that things were left unfinished, regarding your family. But we had our own, we had Kaoru.”

“Kaoru? Where is she?” Kyoko jerked away, frantically looking around. She hurried to the furthest door, leading into her ancestral home. “Where’s our daughter? Kaoru?!”

“Kyoko, she never stepped foot in here. Wait!” But she disappeared, and he fell to his knees, his left hand still helplessly outstretched, reaching for his long-gone wife.

“Kamiya-kun, stop dawdling and join the class.” Motomiya-sensei had appeared, as how Koshijiro last remembered him, with graying hair, deep frown lines, and a bokken in hand. More students waited beside him, and Koshijiro recognized some of them. Hayashi, Kikuhara, Maekawa.

With the atmosphere, he felt like a young man again, powerless and uncertain of himself. “I…I apologize. However-”

“You apologize for being late? Or for spiriting away my only child from Chiba?” He tossed another wooden sword at Koshijiro. “Take up your sword and demonstrate your repentance.”

It was an invitation to spar, but unlike in previous matches with his teacher, he had vastly greater experience. With both arms, his movements were fluid, strong, and confident. It was apparent that the fight would be brief and after a few seconds, Motomiya-sensei had to shuffle backwards, against the wall bearing his placard.

“Very good.” Then, he lunged, quickly closing the distance. Koshijiro knew he had paused too long, before trying to deflect…

He woke, with a sharp gasp. Perspiration dampened his skin, and still, he could almost feel the pressure of the bokken at his throat. He couldn’t move from his futon, and he tensed when a knock sounded at the door. It wasn’t the first knock, he realized, and whoever was there must have woken him.

“Kamiya-dono, are you awake yet?” Himura sounded concerned, and for good reason. Typically, Koshijiro left his room before breakfast. 

He forced out an answer. “Yes, I’ll be out in a few minutes.” Slowly, he removed the blanket and began to dress. It took him longer than usual. Even while sitting, his center of balance was off, the loss of his left arm starkly noticeable. He felt extremely drained; he blamed the dream and how vivid it was.

When he finally arrived at the table, Kaoru gave a worried look. “Otou-san, are you okay?”

“I didn’t sleep very well.”

“I wonder if you haven’t fully recovered from your cold. It’s good that today is your day off.” Just to be sure, she pressed her palm to his forehead. “Not warm at all. Well, you can rest up while we go to the Maekawa dojo.”

“No, I’ll come along, I’d like to see him.” His old friend had not yet contacted him, and they never had their reunion after Koshijiro’s return. Now, with this lingering nostalgia, it was a good time. “I’ll have the afternoon to relax.”

“Alright, if you say so. Kenshin, you’re coming too.”

“Oro?”

“You heard me, Maekawa-sensei wants to meet you properly. Last time, you only said hello and immediately left.”

“This one had to attend to the day’s tasks. Even for today, this one must chop the wood and do the washing.”

“In that case, you can also run to the market. We need miso, salt, rice, soy sauce, oh, and vinegar…”

The list appeared to be overwhelming, because Himura relented. “Then, this one will go with you.”

“Looks like it!” She was decidedly more cheerful. “Come on, Yahiko, get your shoes.”

He had just finished his breakfast, slurping the last of his miso. His eyes were glazed over, as if he was still half asleep, and Kaoru dragged him off by the collar.

The morning was pleasantly warm, as they walked to the southern side of Tokyo. The Maekawa dojo was more isolated than the Kamiya dojo, surrounded by tall pine trees. The sign nailed to the gate had been recently replaced, with the school’s name, Chuuetsu, in fresh ink. Twenty students were already present, and they paused to say hello. They crowded around, eagerly greeting Kaoru.

“We’ve been waiting for you, please come in!”

“Thank you! Now, don’t mind us, continue practice.”

“Ah, all this distraction means it must be Kaoru-sensei.” A voice interrupted, and Maekawa entered the room. He looked well, although the lines had somewhat deepened around his eyes.

“Oh, Maekawa-sensei!” Kaoru bowed.

He gave a slight smile, as the crowd of students hurriedly parted for him. “You’ve brought your student and this Kenshin fellow again, I see. My students say I should spar with you at some point.” He stared at Himura for a moment, seriously studying him. It was his usual tactic of gauging an opponent’s will to fight. But Himura didn’t flinch, and they exchanged smiles, before Maekawa turned his gaze away. That was when he noticed Koshijiro and there was a slip in his composure, a flash of surprise. “Kamiya-sensei.”

Ignoring how the students murmured amongst themselves, Koshijiro stepped forward. “Yes, we haven’t met since I returned from Satsuma.”

“…That’s right. I’ll get cushions for you two.” With that, he left as quietly as he had entered.

“He’s avoiding me.” Koshijiro remarked, and Himura attempted to reassure him.

“There must be a reasonable explanation.”

“Yes, there has to be.”

Kaoru had taken her position at the front of the dojo, beginning her instruction as a guest teacher. Today’s lesson was on sparring technique, which Yahiko was already familiar with. Disinterested, he wandered over, asking. “You’re not gonna fight Maekawa-sensei, Kenshin?”

“This one doesn’t want to fight.” Himura demonstrated his typical carefree smile. “Maekawa-dono could tell, so he no longer wishes for a match.”

“Yeah, I guess you probably would have won.”

“Oro!”

Maekawa returned, with two cushions in hand. “There’s room right here, in front of the folding screen. But before you’re comfortable, Kamiya-sensei, I must speak with you for a moment. Himura-san, have some tea while you wait.” He motioned forward a servant, holding a tea tray. Then, he headed for the courtyard, Koshijiro following. The porch had been recently swept, and they sat down in silence.

“My wife is in town for the day, visiting relatives. It’s a shame, she would have liked to meet Kaoru as the new master of Kamiya Kasshin. Was that recent?”

“The day after I came home, I handed down the title. So, it was recent enough.”

“I see.” Maekawa’s smile was bitter. “And you must be wondering why I didn’t meet you.”

“Well…”

To his surprise, Maekawa prostrated himself, planting his hands on the floorboards. “I was ashamed. I didn’t think I was worthy of facing you again.”

“Whatever for?”

“While you were gone, I asked Kaoru to come here and teach. My students were dwindling; even now, one in three never show up. Kaoru’s presence made them stay. I used your legacy for selfish purposes, and I was full of regret. Would you forgive me?”

“Of course, I forgive you. Kamiya Kasshin also benefited by teaching your students, and I was glad you kept in contact with Kaoru. Now, please stop bowing.” Koshijiro urged him to raise his head.

“Thank you.” The tension was gone, and now, Maekawa’s demeanor was friendlier, as they shuffled back to the dojo. “Well, that takes a load off my shoulders. Now, about your new boarder. He seems to be a decent young man, but such intense eyes…”

“He’s twenty-eight years old.”

“What?! That can’t be true!”

“I hardly believed it myself, with that face.”

“Twenty-eight.” Maekawa repeated. “He’s well over marrying age, and a composed man like him would make for a good husband. With a young woman in the house, an offer of courtship wouldn’t be surprising.”

“There isn’t anything of the sort.” Koshijiro flatly said. It was also best to nip this topic in the bud, before Maekawa could bring up similarities to what happened in the Motomiya household.

“Ha-ha, of course!” He laughed, clapping Koshijiro’s back. “Then, how about one of my students?”

“No.” For some reason, he disliked that idea even more.

One student had overheard. He must have been an admirer of Kaoru, because he suddenly broke focus and missed a parry. He stumbled, and Maekawa went over to correct him. Koshijiro drew his gaze away, to the opposite end of the room. Kaoru had proceeded to individual sparring, telling a student to keep his hips back, before calling the next forward. Himura hadn’t moved at all, spectating with interest.

Kaoru was seventeen. Kyoko was the same age, when he fell in love with her, and his own mother had been seventeen when she met his father. It wasn’t unusual. But this was different, because it was his little girl. With a sigh, Koshijiro settled on his cushion, avoiding looking at Himura, who had just lifted his cup of tea.

“Would you like some, Kamiya-dono?”

“No, I’m fine.” The recent talk had spoiled any appetite he had.

Maekawa rejoined them, oblivious as he looked over the room. “This is nice to see. A dojo, full of hardworking students. Still, I wonder what will happen to kenjutsu.” He lamented. “The art is dying. The war in Satsuma breathed a little life into it, but it’s dying nonetheless. It’s been ages since we’ve had any challenges.”

“That’s a good thing.” Koshijiro countered. A school’s purpose was to teach peacefully, he still believed in that.

“Not for me, I miss it!” He had always been a little cocky, and that hadn’t changed.

As if he had been overheard, the sliding door slammed open to reveal a tall man, his face hidden by a straw hat. He entered the dojo, with his sandals still on. It was incredibly disrespectful, and he ignored the students’ warnings to remove his shoes. Instead, he practically ripped off his hat and leveled an intimidating stare at Maekawa. He was a rough-looking man, even his hair was unkempt.

“I am Isurugi Raijuuta,” He announced. “I’m here to challenge Maekawa Miyauchi to a match!”

Maekawa had gotten his wish, but Koshijiro didn’t like this turn of events. Isurugi looked formidable, and he had youth on his side, towering over Maekawa.

“I accept.” Maekawa was unfazed, smiling reassuringly at his anxious students. Confidently, he accepted a shinai from one. “Let’s make it a fair fight, two out of three. But be warned, I was in the Edo 20th Division, I won’t make it easy for you.”

Isurugi seemed to ignore the introduction, his eyes on the length of bamboo. “A shinai...Yutaro!” A name? Indeed, a boy, around Yahiko’s age, hurried into the dojo with a wrapped bundle of weapons. Isurugi snapped at him. “You’re late.”

“I’m sorry, your legs are so long and I ran as fast as I could.” He huffed. “You said a shinai? Pfft, that’s just a toy! And you call this a dojo?”

Yahiko lost his temper, kicking the new boy’s legs and making him stumble. “Shut up! Who do you think you are?”

Yutaro seethed. “I should ask that, you brat!”

“ _You’re_ the brat! I’m the best student of the Kamiya Kasshin school, Myojin Yahiko!”

“Well, I’m Raijuuta-sensei’s best student, Tsukayama Yutaro.” He was abruptly hushed by his teacher.

“Be quiet. Unfortunately, I don’t have a shinai. I’ll borrow one.”

Five minutes later, the floor was cleared for the match, the two men facing each other. Next to Koshijiro, Himura murmured. “The final point is what will matter.”

“At a glance, yes, they appear to be evenly matched. But Maekawa-sensei didn’t escape the Bakumatsu without injury.” Noticing how serious Himura’s gaze became, Koshijiro added. “Let’s hope he doesn’t overexert himself, that’s all.”

Everyone else was seated, except for Kaoru, who was overseeing the match as a third party. “The master of the Kamiya Kasshin school, Kamiya Kaoru, will be judging.” She somberly announced. Her concerned gaze flitted to Maekawa, before she called out. “First round!”

Maekawa’s kiya reverberated through the dojo. He looked like he was in his element, his expression completely stoic. On the other hand, Isurugi had bared his teeth, tensing.

Himura suddenly interrupted. “No! Run, Maekawa-sensei!”

Whether Maekawa recognized it too late or was unable to move in time, it didn’t matter. Isurugi had closed the distance between them, striking down on Maekawa’s shoulder, then up for a hit to the head.

“Stroke to the head. First point!” Then, Kaoru rushed over to Maekawa, who had staggered backwards. His students supported him, inquiring if he was alright. Kaoru shook her head. “Your shoulder’s fractured, we’ll have to get a doctor.”

“No! The match is still on. As a swordsman, I have no reason to withdraw. Second…round.” He huffed, brushing everyone off to step towards Isurugi again. “Don’t think of interfering, Kamiya-sensei. Neither should you, Himura-san.”

Koshijiro realized he had drawn closer, and that Himura had half risen, supporting himself on one knee. He didn’t reply, his face conflicted. Koshijiro felt the same way. He didn’t think victory was probable for his friend, and with his condition, it was far likelier he’d suffer greater injury. But if Maekawa was this determined, he had to respect that, despite how it pained him.

Reluctantly, Kaoru declared. “Second round!”

Isurugi scoffed. “That first blow didn’t kill you? Then have another!” Another head strike, and Maekawa couldn’t dodge, falling to the floor. Kaoru announced that the match was over, but Isurugi grabbed Maekawa by the collar. “You fool.” Again, the shinai was raised.

Several things happened at once. The students rushed forward, reaching for their master. Yahiko cried out, Yutaro smugly looking on. Kaoru shouted, and Koshijiro tried to reach his friend before the third hit. And Himura leapt, drawing the sakabato. The gleaming point was at Isurugi’s throat in an instant, stopping the challenger.

Himura narrowed his eyes. “You won two out of three points. Do you intend to kill him?”

“Of course. A person’s life counts as a point, and this is a three stroke match. If the last one kills him, it kills him.” He callously released Maekawa, who fell back against Kaoru.

The students frantically surrounded their groaning master. One was sent for a doctor, another for Sachi. Koshijiro hurried over. Maekawa had a nasty head wound, but his skull was still intact. A third hit wouldn’t have guaranteed that. However, another fracture was highly possible, and a couple of students tore their sleeves, to use for bandaging.

“Get pillows to support him, and clean rags.” Koshiijro said. “Maekawa-sensei, don’t move so much.”

“I…the school…” He clenched his hands, and Koshijiro felt intensely sorry for him.

“Don’t think about that for now.” Kaoru reassured. The servant from earlier gave her a cushion, and she tucked it under his head. “It’ll be alright.”

Isurugi hadn’t flaunted his victory, his attention had been diverted to Himura. “Do you belong to this dojo?”

“No, this one resides at the Kamiya dojo.”

“A shame. I would like a match with you, with real swords.”

“This one isn’t interested. This one will not use the sword to kill.” Himura’s terse reply left no room for discussion.

“Is that so? Yutaro! Take down this dojo’s sign and burn it.” There was a collective gasp.

Yutaro scrambled to his feet. “Yes, sensei! Should we burn it on the main street?”

This was too much for one student, the same young man who had stumbled earlier. “You can’t!”

“Can’t?” Isurugi repeated. “I’ve defeated the dojo’s master, I can do whatever I want with it now. If anyone has objections, we can settle the matter again.” He gripped his shinai, and the students’ glances darted away.

“Then, I’ll be your opponent!”

Koshijiro turned his head to see his daughter, wielding her own shinai.

“I’m not from this dojo, but it’s always been kind to me. On behalf of the Kamiya Kasshin school, I will repay them and answer your challenge!”

Himura stepped forward. “That won’t be necessary. In her stead, this one will accept-”

Koshijiro stopped him, clasping his shoulder. “No, let Kaoru take the challenge.”

“Kamiya-dono.” He smiled. It was a subtle difference, but after so many weeks being around him, Koshijiro could tell it was forced. “This one does not want to see Kaoru-dono hurt.”

“I know, neither do I. But as the master of Kamiya Kasshin, Kaoru has the right to take on a challenge. If you were her student or Maekawa’s, you could accept for her, but you’re not. To our schools, you are an outsider, and it would be a disgrace to rely on you. We have the duty and privilege of protecting our own reputations, Himura-san. Leave us our honor, at least. And also,” He added. “if it’s shinai kenjutsu, Kaoru won’t be easily defeated. It’s her life’s work.”

At least, he hoped she wouldn’t be harmed. Otherwise, he’d go after Isurugi himself.

Another student, a young man with close-cropped hair, volunteered to judge the match. Before Kaoru began, Himura stopped her, whispering something Koshijiro couldn’t hear. His daughter firmly nodded, giving Himura a brave smile he didn’t return. He didn’t sit down again, shoving his hands into his sleeves and keeping his eyes on Kaoru as she walked to the middle of the floor. She held the shinai in front of her, in a completely neutral manner. There was no telling which way she would move.

“First round!”

Ten seconds. That was the limit of Isurugi’s patience. He used his only strike, going on the offensive.

Kaoru did not counterattack, turning away at the last second. The force was intense, but after seeing Maekawa’s match, she recognized not to fight it. Instead, she moved into a basic stance, turning to the side, grounding herself, and keeping her wrists together as the shinai absorbed the impact. Deflecting was the correct decision, to protect the fragile bones of the hands and avoid the strike head-on. The shinai snapped, the broken half falling with a thud. Koshijiro let out a breath, relieved she hadn’t been hurt.

“Whew.” Yahiko wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “That was close, wasn’t it?”

The judging student eagerly called. “The match is over. A draw.”

But Isurugi didn’t bow in acceptance, only snarling. “Did you mean to force a draw?”

Kaoru didn’t answer, and Koshijiro noticed how her grip slightly shook. It had taken all of her focus to watch for an opening, and all of her strength to fend off that single hit.

Then, Isurugi raised his shinai yet again.

This time, Himura interfered, and Koshijiro was glad for it. He had grabbed another shinai, and as he pulled Kaoru back with one hand, the other gripped the bamboo to fully block Isurugi. Koshijiro blinked; his vision had strangely wavered, but it was only for a second. Himura’s shinai snapped as well, but a crack had appeared in the floorboards. If Isurugi had hit either Himura or Kaoru, they would have been severely injured.

As for Koshijiro, he took a shinai off the rack and stormed over. He’d absolutely _had_ it with this black-hearted upstart, and if he wouldn’t leave now, he was going to pay. Despite how he had to crane his head to make eye contact with Isurugi, he was unapprehensive, giving him the full brunt of his glare. “The match has been called, that hit was illegal!”

“T-that’s right!” The judging student hastily added. But Isurugi didn’t budge, as if he was considering the matter.

“It was a one stroke match.” Himura coolly said. “And you have used yours. With this loss, retreat from the Maekawa dojo.”

“Immediately.” Koshijiro lifted his shinai, so it was level with the soft tissue above Isurugi’s stomach. A blow here wouldn’t be debilitating, but Koshijiro recognized his own physical limits and this was the best option for the most effective attack, should the other man retaliate. “I may only have one arm, but at this range, it’s more than enough. You’ve hurt my friend and threatened my daughter and boarder. I have no reason to hesitate, if you’re still feeling reckless.”

Isurugi did back off, snorting. “I planned to leave anyway. Have your pathetic sign. Come, Yutaro.”

“Uh, yeah!” The boy scrambled after, but not before delivering a last parting shot to Yahiko. “See, Raijuuta-sensei was superior the whole time!”

“Not without breaking the rules.” Yahiko argued. “It’s not settled until there’s a fair fight.”

“Well, until then, be glad you’re still alive!”

The pair marched out of the dojo, as quickly as they had entered. An uneasy silence lingered in their wake, no one mentioning that the sign had been left alone. Then, the doctor and a pale-looking Sachi arrived, and everything else was forgotten amidst the urgency of Maekawa’s state.

* * *

“Huh. Well, sorry I missed all of that yesterday, it sounded interesting.” Sagara remarked. The smell of alcohol hung around him; he must have gone gambling and arrived just as everyone had gathered in the yard, for the morning’s water break.

“It’s not interesting at all!” Kaoru snapped. “Maekawa-sensei’s confined to bed and their dojo has to close for a while!” It was unclear for how long, because as the body aged, it was slower to heal.

“Well, if it was a fair fight, then you can’t blame Isurugi’s strength. Isn’t that right, Kenshin?” He turned to Himura, who was sitting on the porch.

“He was strong, but even more than what’s needed to hone his skills or show off. He treated the shinai with contempt. What would he gain from storming other dojos?”

“Who knows? So, how did Jou-chan bring it to a draw?”

“Are you saying I couldn’t have?” Her tone was dangerously foreboding.

Yahiko sensed it, muttering as he inched away from his teacher. “Yeah, but you just had a shinai…”

Koshijiro chose that moment to speak up. “Kamiya Kasshin was of my own devising. However, the strongest influences are from my father-in-law, who was a kenjutsu instructor, and my own initial training in my family’s style. Although they were separate schools in name, they both claimed descent from one: Tenshin Shouden Katori Shinto.”

“Huh?”

However, Himura knew the name. “One of the major schools of martial arts, founded when Ashikaga Yoshimitsu was shogun. It was born in Chiba, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, in what was Shimosa Province. That was also where the Kamiya family lived for many generations. Kaoru even spent her childhood there, we didn’t move permanently to Tokyo until after the Meiji era began. But I made sure that Kamiya Kasshin maintained its ties to its forerunner. Kaoru had extensive learning in the theory of traditional kenjutsu, but only with the shinai and bokken.”

“You can’t kill with either of those.” Sagara pointed out.

“That’s right, but in order to protect others, it’s best to understand the techniques the enemy may use and use that knowledge to peacefully dispatch them. As we saw, it worked. Kaoru displayed excellent judgment during the match. She can tell you more, I’ve spoken enough.”

His daughter smiled. “I didn’t mind listening, Otou-san. You look a lot livelier when you talk about kenjutsu, that’s definitely an improvement from yesterday. Anyway, I did have help from Kenshin.”

“This one advised to let the shinai fall naturally, neither to the left or right, so Isurugi would not be able to read her moves.” So that was what he whispered, before the match. “However, it was expertise that resulted in the best outcome.” He smiled at Kaoru, and Koshijiro was dismayed to see her face redden.

“The best outcome wouldn’t have been a win?” Yahiko asked.

“Someone like Isurugi, who disrespected the dojo from the moment he walked in, would not have accepted a loss gracefully. It is likely he would have continued to challenge the dojo. Even now…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to. It was uncertain, how Isurugi would handle a draw.

“Excuse me? Is this the Kamiya Kasshin dojo?” A voice drew their attention to the gate, where an older man, wearing a Western suit, stood.

“Yes, it is.” Kaoru answered. “Can we help you?”

“I’m acting on behalf of Isurugi Raijuuta. He would like to meet with the residents, and there’s a carriage waiting, to take you to him.”

They didn’t have much of a choice. As they were taken out of the city, the carriage hit every bump on the road.

* * *

The Tsukayama estate was, in a word, wealthy. Carefully positioned rocks and shrubs were placed throughout the courtyard, and a number of pruned trees completed the picture. Broad stepping stones marked the meandering path to the gate. This elegance had to have come at a high price, and for a moment, they stared in awed silence.

Koshijiro remembered himself first. “That’s enough gawking. Let’s walk through.” Even the soil under his feet was soft from attentive turnover. The others followed after him, Sagara muttering.

“This Isurugi’s some moneybags?”

“Not at all, he looks like a thug.” Kaoru hissed in response.

They didn’t have to walk far, before a figure bowed and greeted them. He didn’t have any outstanding features, other than his topknot, styled in the way of former samurai. “Welcome to my estate. I’m Tsukayama Yuzaemon.”

“Tsukayama? Are you that brat’s dad?” Yahiko blurted, before he was suddenly tackled by Yutaro, who had leapt out of a nearby bush.

“Who are you calling a brat?! And what are you doing here? Raijuuta-sensei only-”

“Yutaro, behave!” Tsukayama grabbed his son’s collar, pulling him aside. “Regardless of what your teacher said, these are our guests. I apologize for my child’s rudeness.” He said to the rest of them.

“It’s no trouble.” Himura mildly replied. His hand held Yahiko’s shoulder, in a gesture that looked completely natural.

“Now, I’m not sure who exactly from the Kamiya Kasshin dojo will meet with Raijuuta-sensei. But my best guess would be the master, I suppose.” Tsukayama directed his smile towards Koshijiro, which he didn’t return.

“That would be my daughter. However, I’ll accompany her to this meeting.” Kaoru had not brought her shinai, and although he didn’t have a weapon of his own, he would never leave her alone with Isurugi.

“Oh.” He was genuinely surprised. “Well, Raijuuta-sensei should be in the garden. If the two of you would follow me, please. Yutaro, could you escort the other guests into the house? There should be leftover tea and perhaps something to eat.”

Yutaro was eager to lead the other three away, Himura trailing behind. Meanwhile, Tsukayama had walked on. In that direction, the garden was on the other side of a glittering pond, only reachable by a bridge, its surface bright with red paint. Tall, thin bamboo and contiguous shrubs framed the edges of the water.

“You have a very beautiful home.” Kaoru offered a sincere compliment, her eyes wide at the surrounding scenery. It _was_ nice, Koshijiro had to admit, but his guard was still up.

“I’m a merchant, I export swords overseas. The Europeans and Americans think of them as pieces of art, and they pay highly. Not everyone agrees with this line of work…we were attacked by bandits while traveling. That was how we met Raijuuta-sensei, he rescued us and since then, he’s stayed here as Yutaro’s kenjutsu instructor. Ah, there you are!” He called out to a figure, approaching from the bridge’s opposite end. “Well, take your time.”

As he departed, a flicker of distaste ran through Koshijiro and he muttered. “He would leave his guests to meet this man alone? Is he even aware of what his son’s teacher has done?”

“Otou-san,” Kaoru replied in kind. “I don’t think he really cares. He seems to be the type of person who’s easily impressed by strength and not much else.”

“Nevertheless-” He broke off, a current of pain running through his left shoulder. He stopped himself from groaning aloud, clenching his teeth. Why did a phantom pain have to happen now?!

Kaoru helped him towards a nearby stone, large and flat enough to serve as a makeshift chair. “Here, rest. Do you want me to fetch Tsukayama-san?”

“No.” He also doubted their host could be of any help. “I only need a minute, it doesn’t get worse than this.”

“Okay.” Kaoru stayed with him for a few more moments, before he indicated that the pain was definitely fading. Her worried gaze darted back to Isurugi, who was still on the bridge. “I don’t think he’ll wait much longer. I’ll see what he wants, and I’ll be back.”

He was too weary to protest, but he glared at Isurugi’s figure. He needed to catch his breath, before returning to his daughter. Rustling from behind the boulder made him look along the pond’s edge, to see three figures crouching and just barely peeking above the bushes. With a sigh, Koshijiro dryly asked. “Was there no tea?” He could hardly register his own voice, but they had heard, turning to him.

Yahiko was nervous from being caught, and he twiddled his thumbs. “Well, Kenshin slipped out, so Sano and I just followed his lead.”

Himura explained himself. “This one was concerned for Kaoru-dono’s safety.”

“I can’t blame you, but if Tsukayama’s son notices you’re missing…”

“Eh, he’s not going to be an issue. Wait. Shh.” Sagara unnecessarily motioned for them to be silent, before subtly pointing at the bridge.

“Make it quick, what do you want with us?” Kaoru was asking, the beginning of a frown on her face.

“Nothing with you. You practice shinai kenjutsu, an imitation, the root of what’s made swordsmanship weak.”

Kaoru’s expression contorted in anger. “Weak?! Is this why you’re challenging dojos? If that’s the way you think, you’re _wrong._ There’s nothing weak about protecting others, and unlike you, we proved it. After all, we saved the Maekawa dojo, without real swords.” She took a single step forward.

Isurugi sneered, his hand falling to the hilt of his sword.

Then, there was movement at the edge of Koshijiro’s attention. Himura had decided that crossing the pond was the fastest way to reach Kaoru. He must have cut one of the nearby bamboo, for he plunged a long stalk into the water. Using momentum, he climbed up its other end, and the bamboo bent with his weight, carrying him over the water. It was still whole when it dropped with a noisy splash, just as Himura landed on the bridge, between Kaoru and Isurugi.

“Alright, Kenshin!” Yahiko whooped. “That was awesome!”

“Man, only he could pull that off, he’s light enough.” Sagara said with a grin. “And you can sit back down, old man, he can handle it.”

Koshijiro was on his feet, but he continued to stand, rigidly watching the unfolding scene. “So that’s how it is. Isurugi was after Himura-san all along.”

Indeed, the man appeared to be pleased by Himura’s intrusion. “Himura Kenshin, was it? I want you to join my Shinko school, and help me revive the old ways of kenjutsu. There’s nothing to learn, only strength is needed.”

“Rather than a school, it sounds like a unit of swordsmen.” Himura evenly said.

“Call it whatever you like, but you were the first to block my secret technique, the Izuna. Such power is needed to destroy these weak schools. Only the most talented should carry kenjutsu into the Meiji era!” His words echoed in the air. Himura didn’t react, but Kaoru had grown pale.

“He has a point,” Sagara conceded, murmuring. “If only the best practice kenjutsu, like in Noh and Kabuki, that’s how it can be preserved.”

“I disagree.” Koshijiro said. “Noh and Kabuki have their own traditions, but the old ways of kenjutsu are no longer needed. In this era, its form must change, and if it can serve to protect people, it will outlast any instrument of war. Because, no matter what, people grow tired of killing, and yearn for peace.”

And Himura was no exception. “This one will not join you. This one has sworn never to kill again, and a future, where swords are used to take lives, is unacceptable. You can have your school or unit, but if you persecute those who want to protect life with kenjutsu, this one will stop you at all costs.” He was honest, and behind him, Kaoru gave a little smile.

“…I see. Then, this must be settled out in one way.” Isurugi drew his katana.

“Kaoru-dono, please stand back.” Himura told her.

“Be careful.” Then, she slowly retreated towards Koshijiro. Neither Isurugi nor Himura had moved. They were only watching each other, as the wind sent leaves drifting aloft.

Isurugi struck first and Himura drew his sakabato up, to block the attack in midair. A heavy pressure had settled in the air, and the sole sound was from Isurugi’s katana, protesting as he was forced to end his attack and step away.

“Oh, a match between master swordsmen!” Tsukayama interrupted. He was oblivious to the atmosphere, bringing in a tray of tea and setting it on the grass. “Well, don’t mind me, please continue.”

But Isurugi was no longer interested, sheathing his sword and walking past Himura. “If people are going to interfere, we’ll leave our match for later. But don’t forget, join me or be killed.”

Himura had the last word. “This one refuses both.” He left the bridge as well, and Sagara and Yahiko disentangled themselves from the bushes.

“I’m glad it turned out well.” Kaoru breathed a sigh of relief.

Sagara wasn’t as happy, he probably wanted to see more. “Yeah, I guess we’re done here.”

“Although, we’re forgetting something…ah, that brat!” Yahiko suddenly took off.

As it turned out, Yutaro had been tied to a tree in the courtyard. Once he was freed, he made his indignation known. “You bastards! I’ll get you for this, I swear!”

“Shut up!” Yahiko scowled. “If you’re strong enough to scream like that, then come to the Kamiya Kasshin dojo. We’ll have a fight of our own, but with shinai!”

Their departure was accompanied by Yutaro’s glare on their backs.

“You just issued a challenge, you know.” Kaoru admonished her student. “And he probably expects to take our sign.”

“That’s if he wins, which he won’t.”

“Geez, you should take this seriously!”

“Yahiko, listen.” Koshijiro cut in before the boy could talk back. “A challenge means that you put your school’s reputation on the line. In every fight, you represent the Kamiya Kasshin dojo and its ideals. Please remember that, before you act.”

“…fine.”

Himura clapped him on the back. “You are capable, we all know that. However, this opponent is not an undisciplined gangster, but another student of kenjutsu. By challenging Yutaro, you’ve declared your will to defend the sword that protects life. And it is now your responsibility to prove that with your shinai.”

Sagara felt like he needed to join the conversation. “Or if that doesn’t work out, just be a fighter for hire, like I was.”

Yahiko wasn’t fond of that possibility. “And be like _you?_ No way!”

“Hey!”

* * *

It must have been around dawn, when Koshijiro was woken by a loud shout.

“Alright, I’m here, you shrimp! Come out!”

In his grogginess, it took him a moment to place who it was. It was Tsukayama’s son, probably here for his match with Yahiko. But this early?

Footsteps shuffled, most likely the other three moving about in the house. Koshijiro rose, grudgingly realizing he wouldn’t get much more sleep. The darkness in the hallway was gradually receding, as the sun began to leave the horizon. Near the open door, Kaoru was rubbing her eyes, and Himura leaned against the wall.

Yahiko’s voice was a little hoarse. “Do you know what time it is?”

“You never said when, so let’s fight now!”

“Get dressed…first…” Kaoru yawned.

A few minutes later, they had gathered in the dojo. Koshijiro took a seat, taking deep breaths to dissipate the lingering drowsiness. Yahiko was in uniform, looking more awake. “Hey, Kaoru, judge for us.”

She was still half-asleep, slapping her own cheeks in an effort to be more alert. “First round.”

“Let’s go!” Yutaro held the shinai before him, but it was glaringly wrong and Yahiko pointed it out. Kaoru demonstrated with her own.

“You grip it with the hands separated, the left at the bottom and the right below the hilt.”

“I-I train with real swords, so I don’t know any shinai grips.”

“There’s no such thing.” Koshijiro automatically said, and Himura added.

“It would be the same grip on a sword.”

An awkward pause followed.

“So you really don’t know how to fight with a shinai? And you still came all the way here?” Yahiko scoffed, incredulous. Yutaro flinched, and he continued. “Don’t tell me you got up this early, so you’d win before we figured it out.”

“Your teacher hasn’t been training you?” Himura approached Yutaro.

“It’s not his fault.” He was quick to defend Isurugi. “He’s busy, spreading the word of the Shinko school. It’s important for the sake of kenjutsu, so I can’t interfere.”

It was clear that Isurugi was neglecting his student, and the boy didn’t deserve that. Koshijiro felt sorry for him, yet now, he had a small inkling about Isurugi’s ulterior motive…

Kaoru’s gaze softened. “Well, since you’re already here, I’ll just give you a lesson. First, the grip. Move the left hand down, and your pinky right there, catching halfway…”

“Well, I’ll leave it to the master.” He nodded at his daughter, before excusing himself to start on his paperwork for the day.

He didn’t check on the dojo again until mid-morning. Yutaro was already practicing the basic upper-level posture; he was a fast, thorough learner, and Koshijiro could tell how serious he was about the lesson. Kaoru applauded him. “That’s very good, Yutaro.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm, you definitely have talent for this.” The compliment made him grin from ear to ear.

The door slid open, as Himura entered. “It should be time for a break. We haven’t eaten yet, so this one made onigiri.” There were two for each person, wrapped in bamboo sheaths. “Here you are, Kamiya-dono.”

“Thank you.” He took a seat near Yahiko, whose brow was furrowed in irritation.

The boy accepted his portion from Himura, muttering. “Whose side does she think she’s on?” He proceeded to stuff one of the rice balls in his mouth.

“There are no sides in education.” Koshijiro calmly told him. “And did you already finish your lesson?”

“Yeah, I did.”

Himura passed Kaoru her share. “This one thinks Yahiko is sulking.” He murmured to her, and she glanced at her student.

He snapped at her. “What is it?”

She sighed, walking over to give him a lecture. “Yahiko, you shouldn’t be so petty. If more people want to learn about the sword that protects life, that can only be good for the school. Don’t be in such a bad mood.”

He didn’t respond, instead finishing off the last of his second onigiri. Kaoru sent a desperate look at Koshijiro, but he shook his head. She had to learn as well, how to deal with this kind of situation.

Meanwhile, Himura was talking to Yutaro. “Is shinai kenjutsu fun?”

“It’s just playing.”

“Oro!”

“Of course, it’s fun.” He mumbled. “But I’m not doing it any more, playing won’t make me stronger. I want to be unbeatable like Raijuuta-sensei, and show my father.”

“But without practice, you won’t get any stronger.” Kaoru pointed out. After a moment, she offered. “So, why don’t you be a student here?”

“What?!” Yahiko blurted.

She ignored him. “You don’t have to worry about becoming strong or showing anyone your skills. Just think ‘I want to learn kenjutsu’. If you continue training, you can even compete with Yahiko.”

“…no, I’m sorry.” Surprisingly, he declined. He stood and bowed, preparing to leave. “But! I’ll be back tomorrow. N-not to practice, just to see how this guy will fight!” He pointed to Himura. “After all, Raijuuta-sensei wants a match with him, so I’ll keep coming to get information. See ya!” With that, he dashed off.

And so, ten days passed. Yutaro had showed up every day, as promised, but he was still attending lessons. He had progressed well, and it was difficult to tell he had once held a shinai the wrong way. Also, it wasn’t as if he could get much information out of Himura, who only performed his usual routine of housework.

Yahiko still wasn’t pleased. “Back again, you brat? You’re not even a student, why do you keep coming here?!”

“As if I have to answer to you!”

“That’s it, stop fighting! The two of you are here to practice!” Kaoru intervened in their bickering. “Yutaro, you’re practicing the jumping face stroke. Yahiko, you’ll be the target.”

“Why me?” Yahiko complained.

“I’m too tall, it’s better to practice with someone his own height. Now, hurry and put on the mask and everything else. That’s an order from your master! Geez…”

“This is a good opportunity.” Koshijiro spoke up from the sidelines. “Sparring is best between those of similar expertise.”

Grudgingly, Yahiko outfitted himself in the set of practice armor: the face mask, the gloves, the torso protector, and the cloth belt. He stood almost casually, as Yutaro inhaled and prepared himself. The first strike had enough power, although it was only a glancing blow. The second was better, hitting Yahiko’s mask on the forehead. He continued to repeat the movement, and each time, he adjusted and seemed to improve.

“This one is surprised.” Himura had entered at some point, and he commented. “He has a lot of potential.”

“He does, it’s too bad he wasn’t taught properly.” Kaoru agreed. However, Yahiko protested at being hit so many times, and the practice session devolved into yet another shouting match. She gritted her teeth. “That’s enough! Both of you, give me your shinai. No more practice, the two of you are going to clean the dojo, top to bottom.”

“Oro…the master’s discipline is something to be feared.” Still, he gave a slight smile, watching Kaoru direct the boys to the dustiest spots.

Koshijiro deliberately coughed. “It’s about time, they were getting out of hand. And the dojo could use a good scrubbing.”

* * *

That evening, they had dinner at the Akabeko. After their drinks were brought out, Sagara had strolled in, joining their table as if he had expected to meet them. The hotpot was as good as always, and the bowls of rice were warm to the touch. There was only a small amount of broth left, when Tsubame shyly paid a visit to their table.

“I wanted to thank you all again.”

“It was our pleasure to help you. Has Nagaoka bothered you again?” Himura inquired.

“No, not at all.”

“If he does, just find us.” Sagara said.

Tsubame nodded, before noticing Yutaro. “Oh, are you a friend of Yahiko-kun’s?”

“Not really. I’m Tsukayama Yutaro.” He extended his hand towards her, in the Western greeting of a handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Um…nice to meet you too.” Tsubame hesitantly clasped his fingers for a second.

Yahiko dug his elbow into Yutaro’s ribs, causing him to yelp. “Stop annoying her, let her get back to work.”

“The only annoyance here is _you_.”

Koshijiro loudly cleared his throat, and they both paused. “The two of you are being disruptive. If you can’t behave, there will be consequences. In comparison, cleaning the dojo would be a warm-up.” Actually, he didn’t have anything in mind yet, but the threat served to subdue them.

The ensuing silence was broken by Kaoru. “Yutaro, I have something to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“Would you like to become a student of the Kamiya dojo? You’ve worked hard, and you and Yahiko would become fine swordsmen of the Kamiya Kasshin school.”

He didn’t answer right away. Then, he set down his chopsticks and lowered his head. “I’m sorry. I used to think shinai kenjutsu was stupid, but when I tried it out, it was fun. I really did like training, but if I want to be strong, Raijuuta-sensei can teach me more…”

“I understand.” Kaoru looked downcast, it was always hard to lose a student. Yahiko’s expression was impassive.

The meal was paid for, and their group left the Akabeko, walking through the side streets. It was a quiet, lukewarm evening. Stars shone above, in a river of soft light against the dark sky.

“I first met Raijuuta-sensei on a night like this.” Yutaro suddenly said. “We were on the road home, and the carriage was attacked by bandits. My father…he acted so pathetic, telling them he’d pay whatever they wanted, even kneeling on the ground. But Raijuuta-sensei saved us, just one blow sent the bandits running.”

“He saved you?” Sagara snorted. “That’s hard to believe.”

“Shut it, rooster head! He’s often misunderstood, but I know how he really is. If I’m strong like him, I won’t be weak like my father. Himura-san, if you ever fight Raijuuta-sensei, just make sure it’s fair. A real match.” He turned back to look at them, smiling at the prospect. But his expression quickly changed, to that of fear. “Raijuuta-sensei!”

Koshijiro was suddenly pulled back by Sagara, just as a katana swung down in the middle of the group. Sagara’s other hand was fisted in Yahiko’s collar. On the other side of the road, Himura had retreated, both hands on Kaoru’s shoulders.

“Is everyone alright?” Koshijiro called out, and his daughter nodded as Himura released his grip on her. It was fortunate that Yutaro had alerted them, because the katana had cut a deep line in the earth.

“Making an ambush from behind at night, so this is how you really are.” Sagara’s cocky smile widened.

Yutaro was staring aghast at his teacher. “No! Th-this is just a greeting! You’re not being serious, right, Raijuuta-sensei?”

Isurugi didn’t answer, his focus on Himura.

“Kaoru-dono,” Himura informed her. “This one will face him again this time.”

She seemed anxious, but out of the six of them, Himura was the only one with a weapon. Silently, she stepped aside, and not a moment too soon. Isurugi began to attack Himura, with full force.

Each strike had an immense amount of power behind it, but Isurugi couldn’t connect. Himura had skillfully dodged, and Isurugi turned, snapping his heel to stir up a cloud of loose dirt. But Himura was already in the air, leaping for a strike to the shoulder. Isurugi took the hit…and smiled.

“I guess I’ll use a stronger technique, then. You won’t be able to stop it!”

The tip of his katana wavered, as the shinai had in the Maekawa dojo. Himura pivoted but recoiled, blood seeping through his right sleeve. However, he wasn’t the only casualty. With a strangled gasp, Yutaro suddenly flew backwards. Isurugi’s katana hadn’t touched him, but the impact must have. His right elbow had been sliced open, and they hurried to attend to him.

Koshijiro reached him first. “There’s quite a gash. We should take him to Dr. Gensai, he’s close.”

“Leave him. It’s not a fatal injury.”

“Bastard!” Yahiko cried out. “You just hurt your own student!”

“That child?” He scoffed.

Kaoru was appalled. “What’s with that attitude? You’re his teacher!”

“That was a role I played, to acquire funds for the Shinko school. It’s just too bad to lose him, even after staging that robbery. But I can always find another patron, whose brat wants to play with swords.” He shrugged.

Koshijiro wished he could be outraged, but he wasn’t. He had suspected that Isurugi was just using the Tsukayama family, ever since Yutaro unwittingly revealed he wasn’t being taught. Isurugi was dishonorable, he had proven that multiple times, and this admission didn’t come as a shock. It didn’t change the situation, there would be no point in swaying a man as far gone as Isurugi. For now, they had to help Yutaro.

Himura had decided as much, turning away from Isurugi to carry Yutaro. “Wait there.” His tone was ominous. “You’ll taste hell soon enough.”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t run away.” Sagara folded his arms, standing between them and Isurugi. “You’ve screwed up now, you’ve got the most dangerous man alive angry at you.”

Himura’s injury slowed his pace, yet they were fortunate enough to make it to the streets, and Koshijiro called out to a patrolling policeman.

“Send for a carriage, this boy’s hurt.” Koshijiro told the officer, who immediately whistled for one. “After you drop us off, go to the Tsukayama estate and tell his father we’ll be at Dr. Gensai’s clinic.”

Takani met them at the clinic; her gaze went straight to Yutaro’s bleeding arm. “We’ll take it from here. Dr. Gensai! Patient to room three!”

Takani examined him first, while Dr. Gensai stitched Himura’s wounded arm. Then, he joined Takani in the examination room. They waited for close to half an hour, before the doctors emerged.

“He’s asleep from the anesthesia. The cut was wide, but the blood loss wasn’t too bad. You did well, to bring him in so quickly.” That made Kaoru smile, but Takani continued. “Nevertheless, the nerve bundle and muscle have been severed. Ken-san took some of the blow, so Yutaro can keep his arm, but it won’t be very functional. He’s your student? Then, to put it simply, it’s unlikely he’ll practice kenjutsu ever again.”

The prognosis made Kaoru recoil in shock, but Koshijiro inclined his head. “I see. Thank you, for doing your best to save him. When he wakes, we’ll inform him.” He didn’t look forward to breaking the news. It meant the end of Yutaro’s dream of training in kenjutsu. His daughter was still stricken, Himura somber.

Yahiko refused to accept this. “But he was doing great, he was a genius or close to it! Come on, you can do _something_ , can’t you?”

“I’m so sorry, Yahiko.” Takani was sympathetic, gently clasping his shoulder. “It’s hard, but medicine can be imperfect.”

He broke away, tearing off into the night. Himura took that as his cue, rising from the clinic’s spare bed. “Then, this one will go.”

“Are you able to fight, Kenshin?” Kaoru glanced at his bandaged arm.

“Yes, and this one knows the secret behind the Izuna technique. It’s a wave of a vacuum, but this one didn’t realize until now, with Yutaro’s injury. The only way to make amends for that is to defeat Isurugi Raijuuta.” He headed out, his determined figure following the same path Yahiko had taken.

Minutes later, Yutaro stirred, and he tried to leave his bed. Kaoru urged him to lie down again.

“How are you feeling?”

“I can’t feel my hand. Raijuuta-sensei did this to me…” The betrayal had hit him hard.

“Yutaro…”

He jerked his head to address Koshijiro. “What’s it like having one arm? Do you feel useless?”

He gave an honest answer. “Sometimes, I wish that I could do more, to protect the ones I care for. Instead, I must rely on them.”

“Oh.” Yutaro’s voice was very small.

“But I’ve gained a different kind of strength. I’m glad to be alive, and I work in other ways, to do my part in making this era peaceful. As for physical demands, I can put my trust in my daughter, Himura-san, Yahiko, Sagara-san, and Takani-san. You have your father, and although you don’t think highly of him, he is still your father. He wants the best for you, which is why he has pursued the career he has. If you speak with him, you may find that out for yourself. You may even learn to have faith in him again. And unlike me, you still have your arm intact. There is still hope for you.”

Then, Tsukayama burst into the room, and he anxiously fussed over his son, who remained stubbornly mute. Koshijiro excused himself, motioning Kaoru to do the same.

Sagara, Yahiko, and Himura had been waiting outside the clinic, the latter with more bandaged wounds.

“Isurugi Raijuuta was arrested by the police.” Sagara explained. “Kenshin beat him with just one arm.”

“His self-confidence was shattered, he’ll never pick up a sword again. But that won’t heal Yutaro.” He quietly said, and he was right. No one else could reply to that, and the journey home was marked by enveloping silence, and the cold starlight overhead.

* * *

During the following days, they visited the Tsukayama estate. Yutaro had enclosed himself in his room, unwilling to accept any visitors. On his behalf, the manservant graciously accepted the food they had brought.

Kaoru was still troubled. “Kamiya Kasshin is the sword that protects life, but what should we do when something like this happens? It’s a tragedy, and I don’t know what to say…” She trailed off.

“For now, we should honor his wish to be alone. It will take time for him to adjust.” Koshijiro explained. When he had lost his arm, he was only relieved to be alive, but Yutaro was a child and this development would have devastated him.

Tsukayama met them at the gate. The recent events had changed him, lending a weariness in his eyes and a slump to his posture. Then, he spoke to Koshijiro. “You were once a samurai, weren’t you?”

Samurai. He had not considered himself to be one for many years. “The branch I belonged to was not high-ranking.”

“I was the same, but you must have had connections, to have a school of your own. I didn’t, all I had was an eye for swords so I became a merchant. The ruin of the four classes made me a fortune, but I’m no better than a dog. I made a living out of bowing to others. That’s why I wanted my son to be strong, and I was fooled by Isurugi, at the cost of Yutaro’s dreams.” He was genuinely regretful.

Himura attempted a reassuring smile. “…we’ll pay another visit soon.”

“Thank you, but we may not be here. I’ve decided to go to Germany, and I’m taking Yutaro with me.” At their surprised faces, he continued. “It’s the most advanced country in terms of medicine, and if Yutaro can be healed, his best chances lie there. Also, living in a foreign land can take his mind off kenjutsu. I don’t know when we’ll return to Japan, but we’ll be leaving at the end of the week, at Shinbashi Station. I think Yutaro would appreciate it, if you came to see us off.”

Who could say no to that? And so, they waited at the crimson building, sitting on wooden benches.

“Well, he’s finally getting out of the house, but what else can we do?” Sagara wondered aloud.

Koshijiro shared his opinion. “It depends on Yutaro. Unfortunately, I think he interprets gentleness as pity, and his pride won’t accept that. However, it’s important not to push him. Right now, he’s emotionally fragile, and if he doesn’t want to talk, we have to respect that.”

A carriage pulled up, and Tsukayama and his son disembarked. They were dressed in Western shirts and trousers, Yutaro with a sling for his injured arm and a cane for additional support.

Tsukayama greeted them. “Thank you again, for everything you’ve done. Come, Yutaro, say goodbye.”

Yutaro’s head was lowered, and he didn’t respond. Then, the conductor called for passengers to board, and the crowd began to stir. Without much of a choice, Tsukayama led his son towards the train.

Suddenly, Yahiko sprinted after them. “Yutaro!” He raised his shinai, and Yutaro was forced to use his cane to parry.

“What the-?!”

“Don’t tell me you’re just going to give up! Raijuuta may have betrayed you, but you should become stronger than him! Not the person he really was, but the teacher you believed in! Otherwise, you’ll be pathetic for the rest of your life!”

Yahiko’s words were rough, but perhaps, that was the key in motivating Yutaro. He gritted his teeth. “Who’s pathetic? I’ll never quit kenjutsu! If my right arm’s not good enough, I’ll use my left and that’ll be enough to deal with you!” Once again, they started to argue, as they usually did. But it wasn’t a nuisance this time, and Koshijiro smiled. Maybe, the goal of beating Isurugi’s shadow was spiteful and petty, yet for a young boy like Yutaro, it was enough of a reason to keep living. Or at least, until he was more mature.

“Ah, there was nothing to worry about after all.” Himura murmured.

Yutaro and his father boarded the train, and Kaoru called out. “We’ll keep the position of second student waiting for you!”

“You’d better come back.” Yahiko darkly added, but there was an underlying kindness in his tone. Yutaro’s eyes widened, then he relaxed, understanding.

They waved, as the train pulled out of the station. Smoke billowed in its wake, and then, the train was only a speck in the distance, before disappearing altogether.

Sagara stretched his arms. “Well, if we came all the way here, let’s get some Western food.”

“You just want to freeload again.” Kaoru griped, before noticing Himura’s thoughtful expression. “Kenshin? Is there something wrong?”

“It’s nothing. This one was only thinking about how pessimistic Maekawa-sensei and Raijuuta were, about the future of kenjutsu. But the Kamiya Kasshin school and its _students_ make that future bright.”

Kaoru smiled. “Mm, you’re right about that.” She nudged Himura, and he didn’t back away as they walked towards the building.

Their elbows were still touching.

Koshijiro strode between them, ignoring the flash of displeasure in his daughter’s eyes. “Yes, the new era promises a great deal of change, and we’ll all see it through, for as long as we can.”

The government had changed hands, the social structure was reconstructed, and now, they were in a transitional time for kenjutsu. He couldn’t fathom what it would become in the years ahead, but embracing the flow of time was the only way to move forward without regrets. Although, he could have done without Western cuisine. The “Hayashi rice” dish they ate for lunch was too rich for his taste.


	9. Gloomy Spell

Koshijiro frowned, looking through the documents again. The newest arrest had been for opium possession, and as expected, he wasn’t talking on where he had bought it. The price on the streets was high, ever since Takeda Kanryuu was taken into custody and addicts moved from one dealer to the next. The man in custody was no different, and he had purchased opium at an exorbitant amount.

It was expensive enough to be suspicious.

Two of Koshijiro’s officers had gathered evidence of the man’s salary from his employer, confirming that the addict could have paid the high price. But they had to find the dealer, to get a better grasp on the situation before anyone else was hurt. He filed the papers away, and rose from his desk, addressing his colleagues.

“I’m leaving early today, I won’t be back.” Dr. Gensai was stopping by the house in the afternoon, to check on his physical condition. Tomorrow was Friday, his day off, so he wouldn’t return to the station until next week. “Thank you for your work so far.”

“Thank you for your hard work, Kamiya-san!” That was the general chorus, as he made his departure.

At midday, Tokyo was bustling. On both sides of the street, pedestrians strolled, carrying groceries home or perusing the shops. The workers called out, recommending lacquerware, fresh food, or the latest newspaper.

“If you don’t have enough money, shoo!” Nearby, a stall owner had raised his voice, drawing Koshijiro’s attention. His wares were inexpensive metal items, and he was flapping his hand at a petite customer wearing a travel-worn cloak.

“Come on, have some mercy. I just need a new canteen!” The voice sounded high and sweet.

“No means no, miss!”

It was unfair to the poor woman, and Koshijiro shouldered his way to the stall. “Excuse me. I’d like to pay for her.” At the sight of his money purse, the owner relented, removing a small aluminum canteen from the rest.

She looked up at Koshijiro, her eyes bright. “Thank you very much, sir!” Now that he was closer, he could see that she was just a girl, around Kaoru’s age or maybe even younger. “And thanks to you too.” She cheekily said to the stall owner, taking her new purchase. The other man huffed, turning to the next customer.

Koshijiro politely replied to the girl. “It was no trouble. If you’re a tourist, I can provide directions.”

“That’d be great! So, do you know where a large mansion is? I’m, uh, interested in Western architecture.”

Takeda’s home came to mind, especially since it had been cleaned up, in preparation to be sold off. “The only one I can think of is on the outskirts of town. If you keep an eye on the street signs, you can orient yourself.” He pivoted, pointing down the road. His mind traced the route to the mansion, as he explained where and how she should turn. “That should bring you to the gates of the mansion.” He was helping her this much, but he felt obligated to do so; she was the same age as his daughter and traveling alone.

“I see.” He almost bumped into her, she was already on the move. “Then, that’s where I’ll go.” She nodded, her expression set in determination.

“If you find that you’re lost, you can also ask the officers on patrol, for assistance.”

“I’ll be fine!” She waved. “Thank you again!” And then, she slipped through the crowd, lowering her cloaked head. Koshijiro didn’t spot her after that, and feeling satisfied, he continued on. He didn’t notice anything else, until a voice called out.

“Otou-san? Otou-san, over here!” Kaoru waved to him, from the other side of the street. Because Yahiko was at the Akabeko for the morning, she was still clad in the yellow kimono she wore at breakfast. Himura was at her side, his hands tucked into his sleeves.

Koshijiro headed over, weaving through the other pedestrians. “I’ve just left the station.”

“Isn’t it still early? Your appointment is at three.”

“This current case is rather difficult, and I had to stop, before being caught up.”

“That’s understandable.” Himura said. “Then, would you like to join us? We can all go back together.”

“It’ll be short, we just needed more daikon strips.” Kaoru added. “The shop is only a block away.”

“Very well.” He conceded, and walked behind Himura and his daughter. There was a respectable distance between the two of them.

When they arrived at the shop, Kaoru ordered the amount they needed. The dried daikon had been cut into strips and arranged in a box, tied in a cloth. As Himura accepted the container, Koshijiro stepped forward. “I’ll pay for today.” He reached into his shirt…and came up empty. “Hm?”

The shop owner was beginning to look impatient, and Kaoru hurriedly handed over the sum of money, before herding them back into the street. Koshijiro was still searching for his wallet, to no avail.

“Otou-san, did you leave it at your work desk?”

“No, I had it with me when I…paid for that girl’s canteen.” He furrowed his brow. For his generosity, he had been robbed! “She was around your age, Kaoru, and she didn’t have enough money. I even gave her directions.”

“And she took advantage of you, it seems.” Himura was sympathetic. “Should we try and find her?”

“It isn’t worth it. I didn’t have too much in there, only enough for my lunch tomorrow.”

“This one can make you a bento box. It would be cheaper that way.”

“I suppose so.”

“And it was old, I’ll buy you a new one.” Kaoru looked excited, to be treating him. “What color? Is there a pattern you’d like? Or what about a leather one, like the kind that Westerners use?”

“No, nothing that extravagant. But I’ll leave the color and pattern to you.”

“Alright!” Leading the way, with confidence and her own money purse in hand, his daughter was acting like the head of the household. And if her boarder used to be an assassin, it didn’t show. Just now, he had seemed more like a thrifty housewife.

Koshijiro let out a sigh. And _he_ felt old, readily deceived and needing to be attended to. No, wait, he still had years left in him. Today was only…an exception. This gloomy spell could be blamed on the difficult case at work.

“Otou-san, this way!” Kaoru beckoned him, and he picked up his pace. She held up her chosen item, then offered it to him. “I was thinking that this one would be perfect. See, it’s navy blue, so stains won’t show.”

“It’s a good color.” Himura nodded in approval. “And it is for a reasonable price.”

“Then, I can’t disagree.” Koshijiro turned the wallet in his hand, thoroughly examining it. “Yes, the fabric’s sturdy and the stitching’s excellent. I’ll take it.” His daughter was grinning from ear to ear as she paid. With the transaction settled, they walked on, heading for home. The number of people around them gradually lessened, and there was more room to breathe.

Kaoru’s ponytail swung, her attention drawn to the other side of the street. “Sanosuke? What are you doing here?”

Sagara was standing in front of a stall, and he gave a cursory nod as they approached. “Picking out nishiki-e.”

Koshijiro surveyed the arrangement of pictures. The majority were ink-based portraits, and carefully stacked and separated by the artist. “These are good, for amateur works.”

“Got an eye for them, old man?”

“I’m no expert, but my father’s hobby made it impossible to be ignorant of art. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“Like a beautiful woman?” Kaoru referred to the most common subject of these portraits.

“No.”

“Then, what about something erotic?” Himura suggested.

“K-kenshin!” Kaoru spluttered, her face reddening. He only maintained his good-natured smile.

Sagara shook his head. “No again. I’m looking for works by someone named Tsunan. Tae said I could pay off some of my tab, if I got her and Tsubame a couple of pictures. Do you have any more of Iba Hachiro?” He asked the merchant.

“Yes, these are the last two. Tsunan’s works sell out fast, he’s getting popular.”

“Thanks.” Sagara said, but he froze, his eyes locked onto another portrait. “Who made that one?”

It was of a young man, with a gentle face and the uniform of the Sekihoutai. His figure took up much of the foreground, so that the two small boys on either side of him seemed like late additions. “That’s one of Sagara Souzou, also by Tsunan.” The merchant explained. “But it’s not selling, as expected. That guy from the false government army-” Knowing Sagara’s history with the faction, Kaoru and Himura hushed the merchant, urging him to keep quiet. But Sagara didn’t react, still staring at the picture.

“I’ll take that one too, and I’ll give you a tip if you tell me where Tsunan is!” He was strangely worked up, and offering more money was uncharacteristic of him.

“Er, I’ll give you the address. I’ll warn you, he hates people, so he won’t see you.” He scribbled it on a sheet of paper, and Sagara snatched it with the rest of his purchases, before storming off.

“It’s unusual, how excited he is. Perhaps, he recognizes Tsunan.” Koshijiro mused.

“We can find out more, if we follow him.” Kaoru’s eyes glinted with curiosity, and she followed Sagara’s trail.

Himura smiled at Koshijiro. “Well, there’s no harm.” And so, they went after her.

Their destination was at the edge of town, one of the many row houses, yet Sagara confidently rapped his knuckles against the door. “Tsukioka-san! Are you there?” He paused to listen, before taking a deep breath and giving a solid kick. “I know you’re there, Tsukioka Katsuhiro!”

The door slammed open, revealing a young man who looked as if he hadn’t seen sunlight in days. His eyes were shadowed under the paisley cloth wrapped around his forehead, and his hair was unevenly cut. He absently blinked at Sagara, who smirked in triumph.

“I was right, you were the one who drew this.” He tapped the picture he had bought for himself, to the two boys. “That’s me and you, behind the captain. No one else could have known, how he took us in like his own.”

At once, Tsukioka relaxed, even smiling. “You’re right about that.” They started to talk in earnest.

“Let’s go home.” Himura said, quietly retreating.

Kaoru was reluctant. “Shouldn’t we meet him, Sano’s friend?”

“It’s best not to. We may have followed him because we were concerned, but his past with the Sekihoutai is special to him. In a place of such memories, there’s no need for strangers.”

Koshijiro agreed. “Yes, let’s leave them to catch up with each other. And we need to be home before Dr. Gensai arrives. Come, Kaoru.”

She didn’t move right away, gazing at Himura’s back. “Yeah, okay.”

They were on time to meet Dr. Gensai, and Koshijiro was pronounced to be in good health. However, they didn’t see Sagara again. Most likely, he was still speaking with his friend, into the late hours of an unusually chilly night.

He didn’t resurface until the next morning, offhandedly apologizing to them in the courtyard. “Sorry for running off on you guys. Actually, I’ve known Tsunan since we were kids, but we lost touch, so this is the first time we’ve met in ten years.”

“You’re joking!” Kaoru exclaimed, and Himura stopped chopping wood to join in the charade.

“Tsunan’s your old friend?”

Sagara was unconvinced. “You don’t sound _that_ surprised.”

“Of course we are. Aren’t we, Kaoru-dono?” His carefree smile widened as he turned to her.

“ _Really_ surprised, Kenshin.”

Well, their acting was a little over the top, and they could have done so further apart. Nevertheless, Koshijiro decided it was best not to say anything, and only sipped his tea, keeping a stoic face. Yahiko picked up on his lack of irritation, and leapt next to him on the porch. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?” He also feigned ignorance, and the boy ground his teeth together. But before Yahiko could elaborate, Sagara shrugged and continued.

“Well, whatever. I want to host a party for him tonight.”

“It sounds like you want to hold it here.”

He gave a sheepish grin. “Well, the more the merrier. And he hasn’t enjoyed himself once, in the past ten years. He’s gotta be lonely.”

“That’s fine, but how will you pay for it? Are you going to sponge off me again?” Kaoru’s expression darkened, and she subconsciously raised her shinai.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll cover everything. Oh, and tell Tae and the little girl to come. The fox woman too. It’ll be fun. I’m going to order the food now, so see ya.” Then, he was off again, leaving them stunned. Sagara was acting…responsible? For once?

“Strange…” Kaoru spoke first, and she turned to Himura, grabbing him by the collar. “This is strange! Do you think he’s sick?!”

“Oro…! Please, calm down…”

It _was_ strange, but Koshijiro assumed that the young man was in a good mood, after reuniting with his friend. He knew what that was like. A gathering would be a welcome distraction from the current state of work, especially if the expenses were handled by Sagara. They would have to take advantage of his newfound generosity. Who knew how long it would last? “If we’re having guests, I might as well invite Dr. Gensai, to repay him for yesterday.” Koshijiro heaved himself to his feet. “And Kaoru, that’s enough. Let go of Himura-san.”

Yahiko shook his head. “It’s spring, that’s what’s making everyone so weird. All the pollen in the air.”

* * *

The dojo had been scrubbed clean and freshly waxed for the impromptu party. Koshijiro had just finished arranging the cushions in a wide oval, when Tae and Tsubame arrived with sake and two bento boxes.

“Ah, thank you, although you didn’t have to cook.”

“We couldn’t come empty-handed.” Tae beamed. “It’s only a few vegetable dishes and fried tofu. But it looks like we’re the first ones to arrive.”

While they removed their shoes, Tsubame shyly asked. “Will Tsunan really be here?”

“Yes, Sagara-san left to meet him. They’ll be along later.” He ushered them inside. The sun was nearly past the horizon, and he closed the door to keep the draft out. “Please, sit down.”

In the meantime, preparations continued. Himura had brewed plenty of tea, and in the dojo, Kaoru made conversation, inquiring about business at the Akabeko. From the kitchen’s open doorway, Yahiko frequently looked over, clearly yearning to speak to Tsubame.

“Go on, Yahiko. This one will be fine here.” Himura assured him.

“A-are you sure?”

“Yes, and take these cups with you. That will be all.” As the boy eagerly took the tray, Koshijiro stepped out of his way. He glanced inside the kitchen, noticing Himura was not only making tea.

“Are those umeboshi rice balls?” Each pickled fruit was wrapped in rice and nori seaweed.

“Oro, they’re good hangover cures. This one has also measured out the miso and rice for tomorrow’s breakfast. It will be a light meal.” He was already considering the consequences of freely flowing sake.

“I see.” Koshijiro thought for a moment, and then, he looked for the packets of stomach medicine, moving them next to the onigiri on the shelf. “Himura-san, if anyone needs medicine, it will be here.”

“Thank you, Kamiya-dono.”

“Hey, someone, open the gate! The party won’t start otherwise!” Sagara was calling, and Koshijiro went to let them in. He was met with Sagara, grinning as he balanced a platter of sushi in each hand. Tsunan quietly hung in his shadow, with a large plate of sashimi and a box under his other arm. Koshijiro assumed it held more bottles of sake.

The food and drinks were set in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the cushions. Koshijiro took the spot nearest to the door, with Tae and Kaoru on either side of him. Himura, he noticed, had taken the remaining cushion beside Kaoru. Across from him, Sagara wiped his brow and clapped his hands together. “Alright, this looks more like it! Thanks for the side dishes.” The last he said to Tae. “And sorry I still haven’t paid off all of my tab. How about this? Katsu here will draw anything you like.” He jabbed a thumb at Tsukioka.

Tae’s eyes lit up, as she touched Tsubame’s shoulder. “Really? Then, could you please draw the two of us?”

“If you want.” Tsukioka shrugged. He asked for some ink and paper, and quickly set to work. He kept to a single corner, turned away from everyone else and drawing from memory alone. Despite the candlelight, darkness crept in that area, as night fell upon the house. He didn’t face them again until half an hour later. “Here.”

The sketches were quite good; Tae marveled over the detail and how natural her portrait looked, while Tsubame breathed ‘thank you’. Tsukioka stiffly nodded in response.

There was a polite knock at the door, and Koshijiro excused himself to let their last guests in.

Whether Koshijiro thought there was enough liquor already or not, it didn’t matter, for Dr. Gensai had a bottle in each hand. “Good evening, everyone! Oh, girls, don’t make trouble!” He warned his granddaughters, who eagerly ran into the house.

Ayame and Suzume clamored around Kaoru, overjoyed to see her. “Kaoru-nee, Kaoru-nee!”

“I’m happy to see you too!” She smiled, taking each by the hand and showing them the assortment of sushi.

“Come in, welcome.” Koshijiro opened the door wider, and the doctor inclined his head in apology.

“Sorry we’re late. It’s just that my son and daughter-in-law are busy tonight, so I’m taking care of the girls. And Takani had one last patient.”

“It’s no trouble. Hello, Takani-san.”

“Hello, Kamiya-san.” She skirted around Dr. Gensai, clearly eyeing the unoccupied cushion next to Himura. “Thank you for the invitation.” But before she reached her desired seat, Ayame and Suzume piled onto the cushion, exuberantly greeting “Ken-nii”. She pursed her lips, having to settle for the seat between the ten-year-olds.

Dr. Gensai raised one bottle, before handing it to Koshijiro. “I’m looking forward to this. Let’s drink up!”

Koshijiro managed a smile; they both knew the doctor was a lightweight. “Well…let’s enjoy ourselves.”

Everyone began to fill their cups and plates, and it was silent until Takani flashed a coy glance to Sagara. “It’s so strange for us to be treated by you. I wonder if you’ve come across some dirty money.”

“Ha, you haven’t changed!” He snorted.

“I was about to say the same to you.”

“Look at you two, you’re so alike.” Yahiko couldn’t help teasing them. “A great couple, right here! Ow!” They both smacked him, and Himura intervened.

“There, there. This is a party, so let’s get along.”

The fried tofu and vegetables were very good, especially the braised lotus root. Koshijiro was also partial to the tuna nigiri, each piece fresh and firm. When he set down his chopsticks at last, his daughter poured him a cup of sake.

“Thank you, Kaoru.” He tried a sip, and was slightly taken aback. It wasn’t as diluted as he had expected. If the other bottles were like this, they’d be completely wiped out before midnight. But still…the flavor wasn’t bad.

“You’re welcome! Tae, would you like a refill?”

“Oh, I’m fine for now.” Tae’s cup was already half full, and she lifted it to take another sip. “Hm? Tsubame, do you want a taste?”

The girl had been glancing at the clear liquid, and she startled when she was addressed. “Um…no, thank you.” She was still rather shy.

The others were beginning to loosen up, thanks to the rice wine. Sagara cheerfully offered Yahiko the bottle in his hand. “Hey, Yahiko, try some.”

“Uh, does it taste good?”

Kaoru noticed the exchange, protesting. “Yahiko, you’re too young!”

“On second thought, here!” He thrust his cup towards Sagara, and then observed the sake with interest.

“Put it down, please, Yahiko.” Koshijiro sternly said. In a few years, he could drink with supervision, but right now, he wasn’t old enough to be drinking for pleasure. Also, he suspected Sagara’s bottle was _very_ undiluted.

“Fine…but after I try a sip.” After a moment, the boy gagged.

Kaoru sighed. “Didn’t we tell you? Come on, have some water.”

The night went on. Gradually, the chopsticks were set down, and the bottles were handled more frequently. Sagara poured Koshijiro a second cup, which somehow emptied faster. Tae offered a third, and he decided not to decline.

“You’re not a bad drinker!” Sagara crowed. He was laughing louder than usual, but other than that, he seemed fine. It was in stark contrast to Dr. Gensai, who was already out of commission and snoring on an extra pillow.

“Well…it’s my limit for now. I’ll get the doctor a blanket.” And perhaps, a few more, if anyone else fell asleep.

Outside, the silence brought instant relief, and Koshijiro inhaled deeply. The cool air cleared some of the alcohol’s effect. While it was nice to have the dojo this noisy again, his ears definitely needed a break. He entered the house, bumping into the wall only once before returning the way he came.

Now, Yahiko was sprawled on the floor, and Koshijiro draped the topmost blanket over him. After ensuring the same for Dr. Gensai, he piled the rest in a corner. He had to step around Tsukioka, who was pouring sake for himself. Sagara’s friend was so quiet and solitary, Koshijiro briefly wondered if they had overwhelmed him with this party. “How are you, Tsukioka-san?”

“…I’m perfectly alright.” His reply was cool. “Just a little tired.”

“I see. Then, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.” He gave a polite nod, and returned to his cushion.

His cup had been refilled again, and this one…was not diluted. Which bottle had it come from? He narrowed his gaze, surveying the area. Maybe, he’d figure it out, after his head stopped spinning from the sake’s strength.

Tsubame had nodded off, and Tae tucked a blanket around her. Ayame and Suzume, kept awake by the party’s excitement, had taken the brushes and ink to doodle. Giggling between themselves, they rushed to the nearest wall, pretending to frame their pictures. Kaoru encouraged them; she must have had a cup or two, but she directed the bottle in her hand to her left.

“Oh, Kenshin, I can pour you some.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, holding his cup for her.

Takani seized her chance, moving to the cushion the little girls had abandoned. “Kaoru, you don’t know how? Here, let me teach you.” In an instant, she snatched the sake and the opportunity. “There you go, Ken-san.”

“Ah…” He tentatively sipped, and Takani practically glowed.

Kaoru scowled and took another bottle, to fill her cup close to the brim. “Fine! I’ll just drink by myself!” She tossed back the sake in one go.

Himura reached out to her, concerned. “Kaoru-dono…you shouldn’t drink so much.”

“Leave me alone!” Then, she hiccupped, clasping a hand over her mouth.

“By the way,” Koshijiro spoke up, deciding to educate Himura. “Kaoru takes after her mother, when it comes to drinking.”

“…and was she a good drinker?”

“Not at all, Kyoko was an utter lightweight. It always went straight to her head.” She was so cheerful though, when she was drunk, and laughed until she was breathless. A wave of melancholy overcame him at the memory, and he downed another shot to chase it away.

“Oro! Then…” Himura nervously looked towards Kaoru. Her face had turned a deep shade of red.

“Ken-shin.” She directed a ferocious glare at him. Just as suddenly, her temper fizzled, and she frowned, continuing to hiccup. “I’m all sweaty. It’s from kenjutsu-hic! Because I can’t cook, or pour sake, and now I can’t even drink without-hic!”

Himura’s eyes widened. “Oro, she also takes after you, Kamiya-dono.”

“Oh, well.” It was a callous reply, and he enjoyed the redhead’s incredulous expression.

Kaoru’s temper resurged. “Hey! I was _talking_ , Kenshin!”

“Yes, and it isn’t good to say such things about yourself.”

“But…but! I won’t lose at…” Her sentence dissolved into a fit of laughter, confusing Himura. “Never mind! It’s too embarrassing!”

“Go for it!” Sagara jumped into the conversation. “Let’s hear it!”

Takani huffed. “You all smell of alcohol. I’m done, I’m going to get some rest.”

“Aw, come on, we’re just getting started. One more drink, I’ll even pour for you.”

“Only half a cup.” She said, sitting down next to him. His motor skills were still intact, he didn’t spill a drop.

“There you go. Not so bad, huh, fox woman?”

“Hmph, for a rooster-head.”

Koshijiro must have dozed off in the next instant, because the next thing he knew, he was startling awake, around fifteen minutes later. Takani had taken a corner to herself, her head turned aside. Ayame and Suzume had tired themselves out as well, sharing a blanket near Tae. It seemed like Himura and Sagara just finished a drinking bout, the latter urging a continuation.

“You can keep going, can’t you?”

“No, this is it for this one.” He wiped his mouth, grinning. “Tsukioka-dono, could you take this one’s place?”

“No, thank you.” The artist spoke in a monotone.

Kaoru wasn’t satisfied. “Come on, drink up and you’ll be happy just like us!” She beamed and threw her arm around Himura, bringing her cheek close to his. He held up his cup, smiling even more.

“Yes, join us!”

The sight irked Koshijiro, for some reason. Ah yes, the rule. He tried to get up, about to admonish the two of them, but he never did. Liquid splashed all over his front, the strong smell of alcohol searing his nostrils.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Kamiya-san!” Tae slapped a cloth napkin onto his soaked shirt. “That was clumsy of me. I hope you can change into different clothes…in fact, you should go right now!”

He blinked. “…I suppose so.” It wouldn’t do, to sleep in wet clothes. Slowly, he stood and headed for the door.

“’s late. Good night.” Kaoru rubbed at her eyes, before crawling over to the youngest girls. “There’s room here, but I can’t share their blanket.”

“This one will get another for you.” Himura rose, and his footsteps were soundless.

Meanwhile, she was staring at him, her eyes glazed over, and Koshijiro didn’t recognize the expression his daughter had. But it was brief, melting away as soon as Himura faced her again. “Thanks, Kenshin. And Otou-san, it’s so cold.”

He was holding the door ajar, letting the wind in. “Sorry. I’ll be back.”

Stumbling back to the house was a blur, and changing even more so. He kept missing his left sleeve, plucking at it only for it to escape his grip. He also couldn’t forget Kaoru’s strange face, when there was just Himura in her line of sight, and he was turned around, so she could only see-

Koshijiro stopped, frowning. He felt like he was about to conclude something…? The words ‘improper’ and ‘ogle’ were in his head, but…why, exactly? Well, he’d remember in the morning. Hopefully.

Eventually, he managed to dress, and as he slowly approached the dojo, the ringing in his ears told him that it was much quieter. He almost tripped over Himura, sitting near the door with his head bowed. Sagara was propped up against the wall, and Tsukioka had curled into a ball, breathing evenly.

Koshijiro staggered around, checking that the blankets were neat. He pulled up a folded edge against Kaoru’s shoulder, to ward off the cold. Then, he dragged the last blanket over himself, and found enough space to lie on his side. He nodded once, twice, and then, he stopped fighting and gave in to sleep.

* * *

Koshijiro felt the pain first. It was an incessant drilling, against the inside of his skull. He tried to lift his head, but his neck protested. That was what came from sleeping on the floor. And his mouth tasted _terrible_. With great effort, he forced himself to sit up.

“Oh, Kamiya-san, you’re awake.” That was Yahiko’s voice, and Koshijiro turned to see him scrubbing the floor. The dishes had been cleared, and the blankets gone, most likely in the laundry. The dojo was aglow with sunshine, it must have been mid-morning already. It was also empty, save for Yahiko, who scrambled to his feet and peered outside. “Hey, Kaoru!”

“I said not to yell!” She retorted, from somewhere around the yard.

“But your dad’s up now.”

She hurried inside, and she looked alert, no worse for the wear after an evening of drinking. “Good morning, Otou-san. Can you eat something yet? Or at least drink tea?” When he nodded, she was already on her way out. “Don’t move!”

It was quiet again, and Yahiko shifted in place. “Er, how’s your stomach?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” He coughed, his throat dry.

“That’s good, I didn’t feel so great this morning. But Kenshin made me take some medicine, and it worked. He said you thought of it beforehand, so thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The corners of his mouth lifted, and Yahiko gave a tentative smile.

Kaoru entered, with a tray of tea, a bowl of miso, and two umeboshi rice balls. “Here you are, Otou-san. Yahiko, can you help out Kenshin? We need more firewood.”

“Sure.”

While Kaoru unwrapped the onigiri, Koshijiro inquired. “Has everyone else left?”

“Yeah, Sano took Tsunan back to his place last night, that’s what Kenshin said. Dr. Gensai’s son came here, he wasn’t too happy about the drinking, but he calmed down after seeing the girls. Megumi left with them, and Tae and Tsubame just ten minutes ago. I told Yahiko to let you sleep, since you haven’t gotten enough rest in a while.”

“Thank you.” Something nagged at him, and he tried to recall why. It involved Kaoru, and a word or two, but the memory eluded him, as if it were a dream he had forgotten upon waking.

“Otou-san?” He looked up, to see her cross her arms. “Your tea’s going to get cold, so stop frowning and have breakfast.”

“…you’re right.” The tea and miso cleared away the nasty taste in his mouth, and the pickled plums were refreshing.

He decided not to strain himself, and he watched Kaoru teach Yahiko the basic stances of traditional kenjutsu. At some point, Himura finished with his household tasks and joined in observing them.

“Did you enjoy the party, Kamiya-dono?”

“I did, but I wouldn’t want another any time soon. I can’t handle sake as well as I once did.” He paused. “However, the onigiri was very good.”

Himura’s smile widened. “This one is glad to hear that.”

Sagara stopped by after lunch, yet he was quieter than usual. He didn’t joke around as much, choosing to sit on the front steps in contemplative silence. Himura suggested they leave him be, and no one could rouse him out of it, until Takani happened to pass in front of the open gate. She was on her way to another patient, she explained, yet she stopped and raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, where’s your friend?” She asked. “Or was he scared off because of the party?”

“Well, we’ve grown apart. It’s been ten years after all.” He shrugged. “But he’s thinking about writing an illustrated newspaper, critiquing the government. Well, I don’t really care for that, but if it’s what he wants…” He trailed off, a slight smile on his face.

And so, the leisurely weekend ended, and Koshijiro returned to his work with renewed vigor. His officers were eagerly discussing a report about an assault on the Department of Internal Affairs. But it was resolved in the same night, and he had to repeatedly remind them, that the department had more urgent issues.

Over the next three days, progress was made on the opium finances case, as several men had taken to calling it. A squad had found the dealer and raided his house for the money. It wouldn’t be taken into a bank, a pile of cash like that would draw the suspicions of any officer. But to be sure, Koshijiro calculated the finances himself, and once again, to double check. It was still odd. Despite the dealer’s obvious success, it was short by about a third, compared to how much the addicts had paid.

Either there were more addicts that the police hadn’t discovered yet or…the money was elsewhere.

He reported his findings to the chief. “We should gather evidence on all of the dealer’s activities. Find out who he was interacting with and where he was going.” That method would deliver progress, on both possibilities. It would also give responsibility to others in the department, who were able and could work on the ground. He had faith that justice would be delivered.

A week later, he was called to Chief Uramura’s office, for the most recent update. Last evening, well past midnight, a surprise operation had been conducted by another officer.

“Your plan has delivered. We found ten new addicts, and they’re currently undergoing treatment at the hospital.”

“I see. I hope they will recover.” Chances were slim though, they both knew that. “However, was there enough evidence to close the case?”

The chief hesitated. “That’s another thing you won’t like, Kamiya-san. We found out where the money was.”

There was a foreboding note in his voice; Koshijiro carefully asked. “So it was elsewhere?”

“Yes, in the home of Assistant Chief Inspector Nakajima. He also confessed.”

Immediately, Koshijiro felt sick to his stomach. He hadn’t seen him lately, due to the latter’s assignment to the night shift. But he had remembered him as an easygoing, diligent person. Nakajima had been well-liked by his subordinates. How could such a thing have happened? “This is…difficult. Has he explained why he did it?”

“He wanted the money. He’s been gambling as well, and he’s racked up quite a record.”

It was hard to take in so suddenly, that the culprit they were searching for had been one of their own. Koshijiro was still trying to process it, when he suddenly remembered. “Have his subordinates been informed yet?”

“They have. They’ll need some time, I’m afraid they won’t be as efficient. I was thinking of changing their assignments, splitting them up for a month or two.”

Despite how it made sense, he couldn’t agree. “I know you have the best intentions, for them and the department, but with their leader gone, they are wavering. If they lose their team members as well and are thrown into a new environment, they may never recover. It would be best to speak with them, and if everyone was involved. They need to remember that there are honest men here, and while one person may have betrayed their trust, we must rely on each other, more than ever.”

“Clearheaded, as I expected.” He wryly smiled. “I’m sorry. I also haven’t recovered yet.”

“It would be strange, if you had.”

The news spread like fire, and by sunset, it was already in print. Outside, the officers on patrol exchanged anxious looks, uncertain of what to do now. Inside, a heaviness lingered in the air, and Koshijiro sighed. His own gloomy spell had passed, but the days ahead would be tumultuous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, it's the end of the Tokyo arc (and I hope you enjoyed that cameo at the beginning). Please let me know what you think!


	10. That Includes You

A few days after the revelation, the position of assistant chief inspector had been temporarily filled. Some of the younger officers had insisted that Koshijiro apply, but while he was flattered, he was comfortable in his current role. Instead, someone else was assigned, directly from the Department of Internal Affairs.

They exited the main building for the training yard, prepared to greet the new assistant chief inspector. The others were restless, and their conversation drifted to Koshijiro’s ears. “If he’s from the government, that means we can trust him, right?” Abe muttered under his breath.

Shinichi added. “I heard he has permission to carry a katana, even during the day. Isn’t that unusual?”

“It is, but perhaps, he still has a lingering attachment to the old ways.” Koshijiro spoke up. “If he was a samurai, it’s likely he also had police duties. For many of them, it was easiest to continue such work in the new era.”

“Does that include you?”

“Yes.”

The closest officer, Aoki, eagerly asked. “What was it like, on the battlefield? You fought for the Emperor twice, didn’t you?”

Koshijiro did not respond right away. It was easier to explain why he fought in Satsuma, because he had been conscripted and had no choice in the matter. It would take much longer, to tell the story of why he had chosen his side during the upheaval more than ten years ago. Instead, he mildly said. “War is nothing glamorous. Unlike many others, I am very fortunate to have returned home, alive.”

Aoki realized his mistake, his ears burning red. “O-of course!”

As they stepped onto the grass, Tanaka clouted him. “Idiot! You shouldn’t have reminded him!”

“It’s alright. Now, stand at attention.” Koshijiro told them and they joined the other officers, lined up in perfect rows. He straightened his posture, and didn’t have time to wonder how long they would wait, because Chief Uramura was suddenly walking out.

“Thank you, everyone, for being here. This is our new assistant chief inspector, Fujita Goro.” He ushered the man forward.

Fujita was a tall, lean man in his early thirties. It was true that he carried a katana, it was sheathed at his side. He smiled, but it didn’t seem natural, not reaching his eyes. With a gloved hand, he raised his hat in greeting. “Hello.”

The officers bowed in unison. “We look forward to working with you, sir!”

Koshijiro also bowed, a half second after the rest. He caught Fujita scanning over everyone, and literally so. The assistant chief inspector didn’t make eye contact, his gaze directed at the tops of their heads. It was a cool expression, as if he was loftily looking down from a high cliff.

“…yes.” Fujita said, and his voice was flat.

Koshijiro felt equally enthusiastic.

* * *

To his credit, Fujita was extremely efficient and performed his own patrols. The end result was the resolution of several cases and multiple arrests. Unfortunately, that also meant paperwork, and Koshijiro found that his workload had substantially increased. It certainly kept him busy, even at home.

One night, there was a knock on his bedroom door. “Otou-san? Are you still awake?”

“Yes, come in.”

He turned around to meet Kaoru’s incredulous face, her eyes narrowed against the candlelight streaming from his desk. “Geez, you shouldn’t be. It’s past midnight!”

It _was_ very late, his vision was starting to waver. But he had a deadline to meet, and he wouldn’t feel at ease if he gave up now. “I’ll sleep, after this report is finished. Did you need something?”

“…never mind. I just got up to get a drink of water, do you want one too?”

“No, but I’ll listen to what you really want to say.”

She seemed to deliberate, before kneeling, blowing out a breath, and admitting. “It’s about Kenshin. I noticed that he’s been acting off. Sometimes, he’ll slow down in whatever he’s doing and close his eyes. When I call out to him, it takes a minute for him to respond, like he fell asleep but so deeply in just a short time. The way he acts, it’s like…like when you came home, after fighting in the Bakumatsu.”

His memories of that time were fragmented, but tinged with regret. He was relieved to be home and with his family, but he had been withdrawn, too affected by what he had experienced and what he had done to survive. Alone with his thoughts, he could easily sink into reliving the sensations of war. “I see. I’ll also keep an eye on him, and it would only be appropriate if I speak to him once this occurs again. For now, there is something you can do.”

“What is it?”

“When I came home, your mother told you to talk to me, since she was too sick to leave her bed. You might not remember, but you did help. You pointed out when I was lethargic, when my attention was drifting during practice. Perhaps, that’s also what Himura-san needs at the moment, to be reminded that he has people who care for his well-being.”

“I think so too. You’re right, I’ll make sure Kenshin isn’t alone.”

 _It’s true that he needs support, but it can’t be just the two of them by themselves!_ He hastily added. “Include Yahiko, and Sagara-san, if you can.”

Kaoru looked affronted. “Well, of course, that was what I meant.” She stood once more, and stepped out into the hallway. “Anyway, thank you, Otou-san. And good night, so go to bed _soon_.”

“Alright, I will.” He gave a slight smile, and that was the end of their conversation. Then, he returned to his paperwork, and summoned the remainder of his energy. He felt only relief when at last, he blew out the candle.

The following morning, he woke to dim sunlight on his face. It was definitely later than usual, but it was the weekend. The others must have remembered and let him sleep in, because when he emerged from his room, his breakfast was waiting on the table. His hand was sore from strain, and he flexed his fingers, one by one, before picking up his chopsticks.

It had been a while, since he had eaten a meal alone. He could hear faint voices from the dojo, indicating that his daughter and Yahiko had begun lessons. However, it wasn’t the same as sitting with everyone in person. He carried his dishes to the kitchen and headed for the porch.

The fresh air was pleasant, and the maple tree had new green leaves. From the doorway, he could hear Kaoru, telling Yahiko that he had performed the last kata well, but that he needed to be less hasty. And Himura was in the yard, hanging blankets on the clothesline.

“Good morning, Himura-san.” Koshijiro called out to him.

He startled, turning around. “Kamiya-san…good morning. This one assumes that you’ve finished eating?”

“Yes, I have.” He sat on the edge of the porch. “A good meal is always appreciated. Kaoru and Yahiko can also attest to that. You’ve been here three months, after all.” He cleared his throat…and he didn’t know what else to say.

Whenever he talked with Himura alone, the conversation usually revolved around three subjects: Kaoru, Yahiko, and the weather. He wasn’t keen on bringing up their shared war experiences, and most likely, Himura wasn’t eager to share either. However…he had to plant the idea that Himura could speak to any of them, if his memories resurfaced while Koshijiro was at the station.

“I suppose I should say ‘thank you’. You may be a boarder in name, but no other boarder has treated this house like a home.” At that, Himura blinked, and Koshijiro continued. “It’s why Kaoru trusts you and Yahiko respects you. You’re important to them, as I’m sure they are to you, and that closeness is what makes a good meal enjoyable.”

Himura didn’t respond right away. He looked deep in thought, and finally, he said. “This one has cherished his time in this dojo. Kaoru-dono, Yahiko, and Sano, as well as you and Megumi-dono, have made every day enjoyable. This one wonders if it is selfish of this one, to accept such kindness.”

Koshijiro recognized that feeling: a lingering guilt, born from of the sacrifices of other people. It wasn’t surprising that such a feeling was intensified in Himura, and overcoming it was a gradual, difficult process. And that was often without progress. “It takes time to heal, but I hope you remember that we will not go anywhere, if you need us.” He could only say that, and Himura silently inclined his head.

After a pause, Koshijiro rose to his feet. “Now, I need to return to my paperwork. Please let me know, if there’s anything of note.” He stiffly nodded and left, without looking back.

If he had to be honest, he felt awkward the entire time. The weather really was a better topic than emotions.

* * *

The following Monday, they received a letter from Maekawa, and it was read aloud over breakfast. He was healing, but he had not recovered his full strength yet and was requesting for Kaoru to help his students later in the week.

Kaoru refolded the paper, nodding. “I’d like to see them too. Yahiko, Kenshin, you’re coming with me.”

“We are?” Yahiko griped.

“Oro? This one as well?”

“Of course, it’d be fun. But if you’d rather be alone, I won’t stop you.”

Himura paused for a moment. “No, this one will go with you.”

“Really? Thank you!” She beamed, and her happiness was infectious, for he returned her smile. Then, Kaoru turned to Koshijiro. “Sorry, Otou-san, I know you have work.”

“It can’t be helped, with the number of cases. Please, greet everyone there for me.”

On the day of, he almost believed he could join them, but the previous evening’s arrests quashed that possibility. It was close to sunset, when the last report had been filed and the rookie officers gave a collective cheer. Koshijiro didn’t have the voice to celebrate. As he was leaving, he nearly bumped into Fujita and pivoted away at the last second. “Excuse me.”

“Not a problem.” The assistant chief inspector gave a thin smile in response.

“If I may ask, what happened to your shikomizue?” Chief Uramura had prepared a sword, concealed as a cane, for Fujita to use in place of the katana. However, it was not on his back.

“Ah, the handle had splintered, so I sent it off to be fixed.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“I assure you, I’m not disappointed. I prefer true Japanese swords.” His smile widened. “But I know that you disagree. You believe the sword can protect life. It’s a poisonous way of thinking, you could never deliver justice with that mindset.”

“That’s your opinion.” Koshijiro shortly replied. His right palm stung, and he realized he was clenching a fist, his fingernails embedded in his skin. “And as long as neither of our opinions interfere with police work, it’s unnecessary to have a debate.”

He walked away, heading for home. He was weary, his neck and shoulder ached, and he needed to rest for a while. It was stress, he recognized as much, and a break was the only cure.

Quietly, Koshijiro let himself through the gate, pushing it closed with his foot. Light shone from within the house, and the intensity made him blink. How many candles were they using? With his brow furrowed, he removed his shoes and announced. “I’m home.”

There was no answer at first, before Yahiko emerged from the kitchen, carrying a basin of water. He must have been using all of his effort not to spill a drop, for his greeting was more of an exhaled huff. “Hey, Kamiya-san.”

He stepped out of the boy’s way. “What’s going on?”

“Sano was attacked; we just found him lying in the dojo, bleeding.”

Takani’s voice suddenly called out from the hallway. “Yahiko! I need that water!”

“Megumi ran into us earlier, so she’s treating him now. Come on, do you want to see him?”

“Yes, I do.”

He followed Yahiko, to the guest room. The first thing he noticed was Sagara’s jacket, bloody and crumpled and tossed aside near the wall. Sagara himself was lying motionless on a blanket, and Takani was leaning over his right shoulder, where the wound likely was. It was very warm and bright, yet Kaoru was lighting another candle.

“Is that better?”

“For now, yes.” Takani said. “Ah, Yahiko, is that you? Bring the water over here.”

“Okay.” He seemed to be at his limit, and released a loud sigh when he set the basin down.

Koshijiro chose that moment to speak. “Should Sagara-san be taken to the hospital?”

“Otou-san?” Kaoru looked up at him. “No, Kenshin said not to, because we don’t know who attacked him. It’s better if he doesn’t leave our sight.”

“And I’m capable of treating him.” Takani added. “The wound looks clean, and keeping it that way is best done outside of a hospital. That is, if you don’t mind having him here.”

“No, it’s not a problem.” Koshijiro nodded at Sagara. “Please, take care of him.”

“I’ll do my best.” Her face was very grave, and they quietly exited the room.

Kaoru kept walking towards the kitchen, her hands on her hips. “I’ll make dinner, we all need to eat.”

“Are you sure?” Yahiko’s forehead creased, as he ran after her. “I can ask Kenshin…ow!”

She had grabbed his ear. “No, we should leave him alone right now. And what’s wrong with my cooking?”

“Well, it hasn’t gotten any better!”

“Then, you can help.” Koshijiro suggested, to his chagrin.

Ochazuke was the quickest option. After they brought the steaming teapot and bowls of leftover rice to the table, he finally ventured. “Where _is_ Himura-san?”

“He’s in the dojo, but…” For a moment, there was only the sound of pouring green tea, as Kaoru swallowed to regain her voice. “At Maekawa-sensei’s place, he was alright, but when we were about to leave, he was listless again. He talked about the past, more than I’ve ever heard before.”

“Yeah, he fought the Shinsengumi.” Yahiko popped a stolen clump of rice into his mouth. “It sounds like he really respected them.”

“I’m glad that he opened up to us, but since we came home and found Sano, he’s been thinking about something. He looks so serious. I should check on him again, in case he’s hungry.” She quickly excused herself. Yahiko set aside a bowl for Takani, and the steam rose in faint wisps.

At length, Koshijiro asked. “Do you think Himura-san is fine?”

“I don’t know.” Yahiko shrugged. “But when I saw him, he was looking at the medicine box and the hole in the wall.”

“Hole in the wall?”

“Er…yeah, the dojo got busted again.”

“This is the third time in as many months.”

“Uh-huh.”

Koshijiro sighed. The carpenter was going to be very pleased. “And what’s this about a medicine box?”

“It was in the dojo, and Kenshin said not to touch it, although he was staring at the emblem.” Yahiko drew it in the air with one finger, a circle with a hat-like symbol above it. “Do you know what it means?”

“I’m not sure. It doesn’t seem like any of the family crests I’m aware of, but I can look into it.”

“It’s a good thing that you work with the police, huh?”

Then, Kaoru entered, Himura in her wake. “Don’t worry about the wall, we’ll have it repaired soon. Anyway, we have ochazuke.”

Himura’s expression was taut, as he took a seat at the table. He wrapped his hands around the warm bowl before him; he hadn’t made a sound the entire time. Abruptly, his eyes widened in realization of his surroundings. “This one-”

“No, don’t apologize.” Kaoru firmly said. “It’s been a long day for all of us. You’re only human, Kenshin, so don’t feel sorry, okay? Now, let’s eat.”

“…yes.”

They ate in silence, until Takani emerged two hours later, exhausted but satisfied that Sagara’s wounds had been cleaned and bandaged. She didn’t even mind the cold tea and rice, and between mouthfuls, she brought up the idea of watching over Sagara in shifts, until he was conscious.

Koshijiro’s turn was just after midnight. Sagara had been given a blanket, and it was pulled up to his chin. The beginning of a bruise was darkening on his jaw. Each breath was shallow, almost uncertain. Sagara had extensive fighting experience; who would be formidable enough to catch him off guard and overpower him?

_Furthermore, how did they know to find him here?_

He did not like the implications.After three days, Sagara was still out of commission. This morning, he was awake long enough to accept water and medicine, but he fell asleep before Koshijiro had the chance to question him.

“Well, sleep is good for recovery.” Takani appeared to be nonplussed, yet her eyes remained concerned and she fiddled with her chopsticks. “Meanwhile, let’s continue to watch him at night.”

However, Koshijiro hoped it wouldn’t be for much longer. He had told Yahiko he would look into the medicine box’s emblem, but Fujita had suddenly increased his paperwork, enough to keep him occupied throughout working hours.

He finished his breakfast, preparing to leave for the station when his daughter said. “Otou-san, if you wait five more minutes, I can prepare a bento box.”

“No, that’s not necessary. I plan to be home for lunch.”

He hadn’t done so for some time, and her face lit up. “Really? Okay then, see you later.”

Himura added. “And please, lock the gate behind you, Kamiya-dono.”

“Of course. Is there a reason for the reminder?”

“This one believes the person who attacked Sano will return. He would be tall, and dressed like a medicine peddler. He might also smell of alcohol too; that is, if he has not changed in the past ten years…” He trailed off.

“You’re thinking of someone in particular?”

“Only a possibility.” He hesitated. “This one is not even sure if he is still alive.”

Koshijiro mulled it over. “Still, I’ll lock the gate, to be safe. I’ll also stop by the Akabeko, to notify Yahiko.” He had left earlier, to assist at the restaurant for the morning.

The boy was sweeping the road in front, and Koshijiro paused to mention the locking of the gate. In response, he curtly nodded. “Got it.” Then, he smacked his own forehead in dismay. “Crap, I have to get more charcoal, Tae’s gonna kill me. See ya, Kamiya-san!” He was off again before Koshijiro could say another word. Regardless, he also needed to arrive at his workplace, and without sparing another glance, he continued on his path.

At the station, Fujita was waiting for him, a cigarette between his teeth. “It’s busy for you today, Kamiya.” He dropped a thick stack of reports, ready to be filed, onto Koshijiro’s desk. “These take priority, and I expect them to be finished as soon as possible.”

He tried to maintain a neutral expression. Before the loss of his arm, he had never been this busy. To be fair, it was because field work had different demands. He _was_ grateful to be involved in administrative duties, but…he still wanted to sit down and eat with his family.

…Family?

Before he could dissect why that specific word had surfaced in his mind, Fujita continued. “Do you have a problem with that, Kamiya?”

He snapped back to attention. “No. I’ll have them completed.”

“Good.” Smoke billowed out of the side of his mouth, and the smell of tobacco lingered after he strolled out.

After that, Koshijiro lost track of time, solely focusing on each report. The minutes bled into hours, until a shadow cast over his desk. He lifted his eyes, to see his officers grimacing at the tower of remaining papers.

“Are you okay with this, Kamiya-san?”

“Of course he’s not, look at how his hand is shaking.”

“Fujita’s an asshole.”

“It must be harassment. Kamiya-san, can’t you give us a report or two?”

It must have been the lack of sleep getting to him, because he relented. “Each of you may take _one_. Go ahead.”

Hands scrambled, and after the fray subsided, the pile was significantly smaller. He could spare time for lunch at home and complete the rest afterwards. Fujita left to patrol at noon, so he definitely wouldn’t protest if Koshijiro left at half past one o’clock. Nevertheless, he still walked carefully, just in case the assistant chief inspector had changed his normal routine and was lurking outside the station.

The familiar gate soon towered above him, and he noticed it was unlocked as he stepped through. He locked it again, knitting his eyebrows. Had an intruder entered? He didn’t have a weapon on him, so instead, he made his way to the dojo. As he drew closer, he heard his daughter’s voice.

“Alright then, but there’s water and tea if you’re thirsty.” Then, she suddenly appeared, emerging from the dojo. She glanced up. “Ack! Otou-san, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I was concerned, because the gate was unlocked.”

“Is it? That’s my fault.” Her smile was strained and he knew something was wrong. “But your coworker’s here, to help keep us safe. He was patrolling nearby, and he offered to keep watch.”

“That’s a kind offer, but he should maintain his post. I’ll speak to him.” He opened the sliding door, to see a figure sitting on the floor. A figure he hadn’t expected to see.

“Officer Kamiya?” Fujita also blinked in surprise, before giving that unsettling, unnatural smile again. “Finished those reports already?”

“I’m taking a break for lunch. I assumed you were as well, but there are no soba shops around here.”

The smile tightened. “I was telling your daughter that a dangerous gang is looking for your boarder, Himura-san. I’ll stand guard until he safely returns.”

“I wasn’t aware he was in trouble.” Koshijiro slowly said. “Regardless, thank you but I believe we’ll be fine.”

“With two women, one child, and an unconscious person? Not to mention, you only have one arm.”

It was the first time his disability had been referred to so disparagingly, and Koshijiro decided he hated Fujita’s guts. He clenched his hand into a fist.

Kaoru spoke up, her voice calm. “Fujita-san, we don’t want to disrupt your work. Once Kenshin returns, you’re free to go. That’s all. Now, Otou-san, you can have lunch. Yahiko and I already ate, so I sent him to get more tofu. Maybe, Kenshin will be with him too.” She steered him away, whispering. “I don’t like him either, but he’s your boss, right? We probably shouldn’t make him mad.”

“I feel as if I already have, with the amount of work he’s given me.” He sighed.

“Well, food will cheer you up. It’s good, Kenshin cooked it before he left on an errand.”

“What errand?”

“I don’t know!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Yahiko said he received a letter, but it’s _not_ from a woman. It can’t be, so just forget it, we’ll ask when he comes home. I’ll wait by the gate, so I can let them in.” She stomped off, leaving Koshijiro to enter the house alone.

Takani was eating, and she acknowledged him with a curt nod. He sat down at his place, where miso, grilled fish, and pickled vegetables awaited. After murmuring thanks, he inquired. “How is Sagara?”

She shrugged. “Asleep again. The next time he wakes up, it had better be for more than ten minutes or I’ll bury him myself.” She was clearly worn out.

“Please, don’t push yourself.” He said. “There are plenty of blankets and pillows, if you’d like to rest for an hour.”

“I know.” She didn’t dismiss the idea, so it was likely that she would. The rest of the meal was spent in silence, before Takani excused herself to return to Sagara’s bedside.

“I’m back.” Yahiko brought in the full tofu bucket. His shoulders slumped a little at the sight of the empty kitchen. “Do you think the gang found Kenshin first?”

Koshijiro placed one hand on the table and stood. “If there is a gang, they would have divided their numbers. I would have expected some men to be here, if that were the case.”

“So is Fujita-san wrong?”

“I can only find out by questioning him. Meanwhile, you shouldn’t leave the house again.”

At the gravity of his tone, the boy gulped. “Yeah, got it. I’ll go to Sano’s room and, uh, read a book or something…” He hardly read, but Koshijiro felt a little reassured as he walked to the dojo.

It was obvious that Fujita had once been a swordsman. He was sitting on his heels, his posture straight and immobile, as he properly faced the front of the space. “I admit, you designed it well. There’s plenty of room to play.”

For his own sanity, Koshijiro ignored the jab. “You were cleared to carry your katana?”

“Fortunately, yes. It’s more suited to me than a sword-cane or a Western saber.” He smiled at the sheathed blade, and it was a strangely fond expression. “Only a Japanese sword can deliver justice.”

“And the law has deemed that the police cannot carry them. Regardless of that, I was thinking about the gang. Do we know who they are, and whether they have any history with Himura-san?”

“I assume it’s a small group, around ten men or fewer. That was indicated by a few vague letters, sent from different addresses and pieced together from newspaper cuttings. As for any history, who knows? There was a war ten years ago, many people have complaints.”

“Then, why are they so dangerous? Were the letters that threatening?”

“Enough to be concerning.”

“And if they’re genuine, why aren’t our officers making arrests?”

“I’ve visited the addresses, and the gang members appear to have moved. Instead of wasting time on a search, it would be vastly more efficient to lie in wait for them.” His voice was impatient. On edge. “Speaking of efficiency, don’t you have other responsibilities? Your break’s over. Return to the station.”

He was about to reply, when Kaoru approached. “Otou-san? Is it really safe for you to leave?”

He spoke carefully. “I didn’t encounter anyone on the way here, but if you would feel better if I stayed-”

Fujita interrupted. “If you thought I was making a request, you’re wrong. You have work to do.” Was it a trick of the light, or were his eyes more shadowed? More sinister?

“Otou-san-”

“It’s fine, Kaoru. Clearly, the assistant chief inspector believes he can handle this matter.” Also, there was one benefit to returning to work. He could search through Fujita’s desk for the letters. It wouldn’t be inappropriate; this matter concerned his home and the security of its residents. If he had to pay the consequences, so be it. He clasped his daughter’s shoulder, promising. “I’ll be home by sunset.”

She still looked troubled, but she exhaled. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

Reluctantly, he departed. The sky was covered with silver clouds, darkening to gray near the horizon. Whether there would be rain or not, it was difficult to tell.

Halfway down the road, he heard a voice call out. “Kamiya-san!” Koshijiro turned his head to see Officer Shinichi crossing the street in four strides. He had been running, he needed to catch his breath before managing to relay his message. “Oh, good, I’m glad I caught you. Chief Uramura is requesting that you return to the station immediately. There’s a visitor who wants to speak with you.”

Koshijiro frowned. “Who is it?”

“I wasn’t told, only that you need to go back as quickly as possible.”

“Then, the sooner we arrive, the sooner it will end.” He would have to check Fujita’s desk afterwards.

Shinichi led him to the chief’s office, but it was empty. “The chief must be with the visitor, I’ll try and find them. You can sit down.” With a hasty salute, he hurried off. Koshijiro occupied one of the plush Western couches. Past the door, muffled footsteps grew louder and softer at intervals.

Dim light streamed in from the glass windowpanes, onto his hand. He stared at his callused palm and fingers, the short nails recently trimmed with Kaoru’s help. No, he didn’t feel weak, not when his own skin embodied a lifetime of perseverance.

Twenty minutes passed; there was no update from Shinichi. After twenty more minutes, he decided it had been long enough already. He could slip out for a while and attempt to find the letters. Without deliberating any further, he went to the door and turned the knob.

 _Hm?_ It didn’t budge, and he twisted harder, to no avail. Had someone locked the door?

He rapped the wood with his knuckles. “Hello? Is anyone out there?” There was only silence. He continued to knock, proceeding to bang his fist against the door. With each hit, his alarm grew.

It could have been an honest mistake, but what if there was no visitor and Shinichi had delivered a false message? What if he had been lured here?

Koshijiro paused and looked over the room. From what he remembered, the left window was jammed and couldn’t be opened. He tried the right but the lock only budged halfway. He peered downwards, at the streets below. His gaze met two hats, belonging to its respective officers standing guard at the entrance.

With a tired sigh, he sat again to contemplate the situation. The initial panic had subsided, and he shifted his thoughts to who could have possibly planned this. Fujita, definitely. He had been too eager to shoo Koshijiro out of the dojo. But he had to have an accomplice, at least one, at the station. He doubted it was Shinichi, he was too honest.

_Someone of high rank then, who could order Shinichi. It can’t be Chief Uramura; he wouldn’t sacrifice his space unless he was here to distract me. That means whoever it is, the accomplice must be distracting the chief. And whoever locked the door…a second accomplice. But why go to such lengths?_

As Fujita had pointed out, Koshijiro wasn’t much of a threat. But what if that was the purpose, to keep him away…to get to someone else? Sagara’s wounds had come from a sword. Fujita had recently broken his shikomizue. Damn it, Fujita could have been the attacker all along! And he had his _katana_.

His daughter and everyone else was in danger. He needed to get out. Now.

He eyed the window again. It couldn’t be opened…at least, not with the lock. He glanced at the coat rack. Sturdy and tall, it resembled the sodegarami, the man-catching tool he had used until ten years ago. He walked over and grasped it. It was heavier than he expected, but he could tuck it under his arm and guide it with his hand. He made sure the path to the window was clear, and then, he readied himself into position. He aimed the end of the coat rack towards the glass. With a running start, he could break the glass and alert the officers guarding the front door. Of course, he would pay for the damage to the window. It would most likely come out of his salary.

_Nevertheless, three, two, one…!_

He charged.

Then, the door swung open. “Officer Kamiya?”

Koshijiro stumbled at the chief’s voice, stopping short of the window, but he managed to lower the coat rack and set it upright. Sweat rolled down his forehead, but he snapped to attention, turning and straightening his posture. The chief blinked in puzzlement and asked. “What are you doing?”

He explained, as calmly as he could. “I believe that I was locked inside your office by mistake. I have been waiting for almost an hour, and I concluded that no help was arriving. I apologize for my impatience.”

“No, it’s perfectly alright. It’s strange, it shouldn’t have been locked. Well, sorry about the delay, but I was giving our very important guest a tour of the building.” The chief ushered in a figure, and Koshijiro braced himself to see the face of Fujita’s accomplice. He did not recognize the man. The guest had a full mustache and beard; he wore his coat over a Western suit.

“This is the minister of the Department of Internal Affairs, Okubo Toshimichi.” The chief introduced him. That name was certainly memorable; Okubo was one of the most prominent figures in the country, the last of the three men who led the Ishin Shishi.

“Minister Okubo.” Koshijiro bowed deeply. “It is an honor to meet you.”

“Please, stand up. The honor is mine, to meet a veteran of both Toba Fushimi and Satsuma.” His clear gaze was directed at Koshijiro’s face, instead of his armless sleeve.

“Ah…yes.” He maintained a respectful demeanor, but his mind was still racing. An official of Okubo’s standing would fit the criteria of Fujita’s accomplice. As for the second…

The chief then added. “Commissioner Kawaji, we’re here.” Another man entered the office. He was short of stature and balding, but Koshijiro remembered him from a few police ceremonies. He had to be the second accomplice.

Okubo spoke again. “I’d like to have a word alone with Kamiya-san.”

Without even questioning how odd that was, the chief was already in the hallway and closing the door. “Of course!”

Koshijiro subtly took a step towards the coat rack and window.

If Okubo noticed, he didn’t mention it and instead continued. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, the tour was a last minute change. I had intended to meet you at half past one, because I was told that you would definitely be here for the entirety of the day.”

“Saito-san usually has good information.” Kawaji muttered. “He must have made a rare mistake.”

“We had to switch to the secondary plan anyway, I did not want to deny the commissioner of his tour.” Okubo pressed his fingertips together. “But I wanted to speak with you directly, Kamiya-san. You’ve housed a wandering swordsman named Himura Kenshin, for the past three months. How has he fared?”

Koshijiro frowned. Was Okubo cornering him, just to ask about a former Ishin Shishi soldier? “He’s been a good boarder. Other than…I have no complaints that would concern you.” He exhaled. “I’m sorry, but would it be possible for us to meet again?”

“The minister is very busy.” Kawaji said. “We have been planning this for some time.”

“Well, perhaps, I should have been notified.”

“How rude! Is something irritating you, Kamiya-san?”

“Yes, and with every second, I’m more certain that both of you have a hand in it.”

Kawaji’s expression contorted in anger, but Okubo lifted a hand. “No, I understand. Kawaji, what is the time now?”

“Fifteen minutes past three.”

“Then, Saito-san should have fulfilled his task by now. Let’s go.”

Koshijiro struggled for patience, but he found that he had none left. He was exhausted and worried and sick of the deception. “I’m not. I’m going home, I’ve had enough of these games.”

They exchanged glances, and Okubo slowly said. “It would be best if we talk in the carriage. I promise you, we will take you home first. Consider it an apology.”

“I’ll accept.” He trailed the two of them, as they headed out to the road. A horse-drawn carriage was waiting, and Koshijiro silently stepped within.

While the carriage swayed and the buildings moved past, Okubo began to explain. “Your new assistant chief inspector, Fujita Goro, was sent to the station on my orders. His current objective is to evaluate Himura-san’s abilities in countering a certain threat.”

“And in doing so, he made a mistake and injured the wrong person. Since then, that person has not been conscious for more than an hour a day.”

“No, it wasn’t a mistake. He is very deliberate, that’s one of his strong points. I admit, that was extreme, but he must have intended to draw Himura-san’s attention. And his ire.”

“You want the assassin who worked for you ten years ago.” He realized. “Who do you want to kill?”

“That’s classified.” Kawaji automatically replied.

“The government can conscript any number of men. It did so for the rebellion in Satsuma, only last year. What kind of threat is it, that you would go to such lengths for one man?”

“Kamiya-san, that’s enough!”

He leaned back in his seat. “I assume that you know what happened to our last assistant chief inspector. He was not forthcoming with us and it resulted in betrayal. Forgive me, if I am overreacting to secrecy.”

A long pause followed. Outside, the scenery became more familiar, drawing closer to the Kamiya dojo.

Okubo stroked his beard. “It _is_ classified information, and I would rather disclose it only once. You don’t have to wait any longer; we’ve arrived.”

Koshijiro dismounted first, calling out for his daughter to allow them in. “Kaoru!”

But it was Yahiko who opened the gate, his eyes wide. “Kamiya-san. Come on! We gotta stop them!” As he led the way to the dojo, he was trembling slightly, and Koshijiro laid a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

The distinct sound of metal on metal reached his ears. Kawaji pushed past, sprinting into the dojo and shouting. “Stop!”

At the same time, a scream of distress split the air. It sounded like Kaoru, and Koshijiro hurried to join the scene. He found her first, kneeling on the ground and clutching herself. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she was unharmed. Standing near her with anxious expressions, Takani was supporting a now fully conscious Sagara. And then, in the middle of the floor, Fujita and Himura had halted mid-step, their swords drawn. Both were bloodied, Fujita’s forehead and Himura’s right shoulder in particularly bad shape.

“Come to your senses, Saito. Your mission was to test the abilities of Hitokiri Battousai.” The commissioner scolded.

Fujita must have been a pseudonym, because he answered. “…I was almost enjoying myself. You shouldn’t have interfered.”

Now, Okubo stepped forward. “I understand your pride, as a former captain of the Shinsengumi. But neither you nor Himura-san can afford to risk your lives here.

“So you were the one pulling the strings,” Himura lifted his head, and his gaze was cold. “Okubo-dono.”

Okubo gave a wry smile. “I apologize for the rough treatment, but we desperately needed to know how strong you are. I hope you will hear me out.”

“Yes, and you will hold nothing back.”

It seemed to be Fujita’s cue to exit, because he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. “Mission report. Himura Kenshin is of no use to us, but Himura Battousai has potential. That’s all.” The commissioner didn’t appear pleased with the brevity, but he brushed it off.

Koshijiro seized the opportunity to remark. “So, you needed me out of the house, in order to fight Himura-san.”

Fujita scoffed. “You look like the kind of person who interferes, so I sought to distract you with paperwork. I should have never let you return to the dojo. You’re a stubborn one, that’s something I’ll remember. And by the way, if anyone asks why I was gone, I was patrolling the streets around here.”

“You’re telling me to withhold information from my colleagues, and so soon after the last assistant chief inspector destroyed our trust.” He bluntly said.

“That’s correct.” Fujita was just as forthright. “Because none of _them_ can be trusted with a threat to national security. And if that’s all, I’m leaving.” He tossed his coat over his shoulder, and walked away. Koshijiro was too glad to see him go.

Okubo beckoned to Himura. “Come then, the carriage is still outside.”

“You must be…” Himura was about to make a retort, but instead, he trailed off. Then, he drove his fist between his eyes. As his knuckles came away bloody, he deeply inhaled. “This matter does not involve only this one. We will all hear what you have to say.”

Kaoru ran to him. “But first, we need to tend to your wounds. The blood hasn’t stopped yet…”

“Don’t touch them!” Takani warned and began to direct instructions to cleanse and bind the wounds. Himura was ushered to the bathhouse, Yahiko in tow to help.

In the kitchen, there was leftover tea, and Koshijiro poured some into a cup. The hot drink did very little to reduce the fury pumping through his veins. He paced back and forth, to try and curb the energy. At one point, Sagara entered but upon seeing Koshijiro, he declared. “Ah! I gotta take my medicine.” He pivoted, reversing his tracks.

After a while, the kitchen was too cramped, and he went outside. His daughter was washing Himura’s bloodied gi. Her figure seemed purposefully small, her chin tucked and her elbows drawn in.

Koshijiro knelt next to her. “Kaoru?”

“I-I’m fine.” She briefly pressed her sleeve to her puffy eyes.

“It’s over.”

“I _know_.” Her voice broke. “But I couldn’t _do_ anything to stop Kenshin.”

“You didn’t have to, don’t blame yourself.”

“My voice couldn’t reach him. He was too far gone, lost in the past.”

“You should rest. The gi can wait.” He reached for her hands, but she jerked away.

“This is what I can do for him now. I don’t want to give up.” She kept turning the gi in the water, her eyes forced open to prevent any more tears forming. “That’s it.”

As much as he wanted to ease her pain, he realized he couldn’t comfort her. But the sooner the troublemakers left, the better off they’d all be. “I’m going to clean the dojo, so don’t worry about that.”

“Okay.”

He returned inside to retrieve a few old cloths, the threads beginning to come apart at the edges. He passed the kitchen, noticing that Takani was measuring rice in a clay pot. She was murmuring to herself. “With the two of them and the carriage driver, that’s three more plates. Nine in total.”

He spoke up. “Don’t go to such lengths. They’re not our guests. Guests would have announced themselves.”

Takani craned her head to look at him, blinking. “Well, I suppose…”

His heavy footsteps continued. He located the bucket of soapy water used to clean the dojo’s floor, and tossed the rags into the frothy liquid. The sliding door was slightly ajar and he used his foot to fully open it. Ignoring the presence of the minister and the commissioner, he squeezed out the excess water in the cloths. But their whispers floated over to him.

“Minister Okubo, we’re short on time.”

“We don’t have a choice. There’s nothing we need more than Himura-san’s strength.”

Koshijiro threw the rag in his hand onto the floor, and it landed with a wet splat. “Both of you, I need you out.”

“This is the only private area, we can’t discuss-”

He abruptly shut up, as Koshijiro stood to face him, thunder in his expression. “Right now, I’m very angry. Because of your deception, everyone is distressed. You only care about Himura-san’s strength, but he has been hurt, and blood was shed in the dojo. This place is meant to teach. If you have any respect, you will sit on the porch until I am finished cleaning. If you feel you can’t talk, then don’t. Be quiet.”

Okubo stared at him for a moment, before inclining his head. “Kawaji, the porch is this way.” The commissioner flashed one last affronted look at Koshijiro, but they acquiesced.

He scrubbed at the splattered blood, some of it on the walls. By the time he was finished, night had fallen, and the water had turned crimson. As he washed out the bucket, Kaoru approached him.

“Otou-san? Is it okay if we can talk in the dojo? The minister’s asking.”

“It’s fine.” Cleaning the dojo had served to calm his temper, for the most part.

They filed in, sitting in a semicircle to face the minister and commissioner. Himura had a bandage on his unscarred cheek and he guarded his right side, the bandages covered by a fresh, dark gray gi.

“I’ll be brief.” Okubo began. “Himura, Shishio is plotting rebellion in Kyoto.”

“And who’s that?” Sagara interjected.

“He was this one’s successor.” Himura answered. “When this one was assigned to fight openly against the Shinsengumi, Shishio Makoto became the next hitokiri. He was another member of the Ishin Shishi, from Choshuu. Very few knew he existed, even this one has never seen him. But this one heard that he died ten years ago, in the Boshin War.”

Okubo did not reply, and Himura interpreted his silence. “So, he was not killed in battle, but executed by the Ishin Shishi.”

“At that time, we didn’t have a choice. His skill and wits were almost equal to yours, but he had cunning and a longing for power. He didn’t care for his comrades. If the public found out about his assassinations, it would threaten the Meiji government. He couldn’t continue to live. Oil was even poured over his corpse and burned.”

“Well, that didn’t work.” Sagara sarcastically said, and the commissioner glared at him.

“Watch your mouth! And this is a serious matter! Shishio’s formed an army of bloodthirsty fighters and war-loving merchants. He wants to take his revenge upon this country, by creating another civil war.”

Okubo added. “All the troops we’ve sent have been obliterated. You are our last hope. For the sake of the people, Himura, please go to Kyoto once again.”

“In other words,” It was Kaoru’s turn to speak up. “You’re asking Kenshin to kill Shishio Makoto.”

“…Yes, that is what we’re asking.”

Kawaji elaborated. “Of course, he will be amply rewarded and we can _adjust_ some things on our end. For example, this woman is Takani Megumi, suspected to have manufactured the highly addictive Spider’s Web opium. We can make that suspicion disappear.”

Takani slapped her hand on the floor. “If you’ll use me to blackmail Ken-san, I’d rather be executed.”

“And it was your dirty dealings that started this mess.” Sagara darkly said. “You want Kenshin to cover your own asses! Kenshin’s chosen to live without killing. I won’t stand by and watch you drag him into this. Screw the government! All that matters is the peace and safety of the people!”

A vein bulged in Kawaji’s temple as he pulled Sagara’s collar. “If Shishio succeeds, we won’t have that either, you fool! If you don’t shut up, I’ll arrest you!”

“I’d like to see you try!” Sagara taunted, and grabbed the commissioner in turn.

Yahiko sighed. “The only thing I get is that if Kenshin hadn’t disappeared, you guys would’ve killed him too. You only kill people when it suits you, that’s pathetic.” That was true, and silently, Kawaji released Sagara, who made a rude hand gesture.

Kaoru folded her hands in her lap, her steady gaze on the minister. “Okubo-san, I understand that you need Hitokiri Battousai, but that isn’t Kenshin, not anymore. We will never allow Kenshin to go to Kyoto.”

“That’s outrageous!” Kawaji then turned to Koshijiro. “Please, Kamiya-san. You know what’s at stake, you sided with this government.”

But _they_ didn’t know. They didn’t know the reason why he fought, what had convinced him to join their side, and after ten years, they had lost sight of that reason.

Koshijiro squarely looked at Okubo. “That war is finished. Himura-san fulfilled his duties to you then. If the government needs an assassin, they won’t find one here.”

The commissioner’s temper flared, and he spat. “You’re a fool, just like everyone else here!”

Okubo disagreed. “Quiet, Kawaji. I understand, Kamiya-san. Investing in the Meiji era has required much sacrifice on your part. The same goes for you.” He glanced at Himura. “This is a decision too important to make in one night. I’ll come to see you in a week, on May 14th. I’ll expect a good answer then.” He drew his coat around him and at last, he returned to his carriage with the commissioner.

“Stubborn bastards.” Sagara stalked off. “Good riddance! Let’s eat already, I’m starving.”

“Your appetite’s a good sign, but you’ll regret it if you overeat.” Takani warned.

Dinner was spent in silence, except for the noises of their utensils. Although it was still relatively early, everyone was generally eager to go to bed. Koshijiro was about to retire, but as he was closing the door, Himura suddenly peered through the gap.

“Can this one speak with you?”

“…alright.” He allowed the redhead in, feeling a little awkward.

Himura took a single step from the door, before he knelt and bowed his head. “This one apologizes, for the trouble he caused today.”

“If anyone needs to apologize, it would be Minister Okubo and Commissioner Kawaji.” When he didn’t react, Koshijiro continued. “They think highly of your skill with the sword, but you weren’t moved.”

“This one was not born to a samurai family, he was taught the sword by his master. When the people were suffering, this one saw and wanted to help.” He mulled over his words. “Minister Okubo and the commissioner are not wrong, to believe that this one would help again. But Saito had already drawn his sword, and this one succumbed to anger.”

“First of all, it was a terrible plan, if they were trying to negotiate with you. The minister did not consider your will. This week, we’ll do our best to protect you from being exploited. Your decision is what matters.” He studied Himura’s expression. “You look like you want to say something else.”

After a second, he nodded. “Kamiya-dono, you’re a respected officer and a veteran twice over. More than anyone else in this house, you would understand why they asked for this one, yet you took this one’s side. Why?”

If Koshijiro closed his eyes, he could remember many things. The crash of water against the riverbanks. The violent slap of a hand across his cheek. And faintest of all, a soft humming.

“It’s for the same reason why I fought in the Bakumatsu. I wanted to build a world in which people could be respected, from birth to death. A world that was not so rigid in who deserved certain treatment, who decided what privileges were given. The transition has not been perfect, but I still believe that a person should decide how they want to live. That includes you.” He gruffly added.

“…thank you, Kamiya-dono.”

There was a faint rustle, and Himura turned his head towards the door. “Yes?”

A long pause followed, before Kaoru entered. “Um, don’t mind me, I was checking the corners for dust. Don’t worry, they’re all clean.” She gave a little laugh, as her cheeks grew pink.

At this angle, Himura’s face couldn’t be seen, but the younger man’s tone was markedly light. “Then, that’s good.”

Koshijiro cleared his throat. “While you’re both here, let Takani and Sagara know that the five of us should meet tomorrow. I’d like your help in preparing for something.”

* * *

“What’s all this?” Yahiko blinked at the spray of irises and azalea flowers on the table. Koshijiro had chosen those, for the season and how the colors complemented each other. The second addition to their afternoon tea was an array of rice cakes, wrapped in green oak leaves. The unfamiliar sight confused him. “Are we having another party?”

“No, it’s a holiday.” Kaoru explained. “Haven’t you celebrated Boy’s Day before?”

“Of course I have.” He scratched his head. “My mom usually bought me a skewer of dango. That was about it though…”

“Well,” Sagara clapped the boy’s shoulder. “We can do a lot more than that today. You’re only a kid once. That’s why I went out and bought _this_.” With his other hand, he drew out a small carp streamer the length of his forearm. It was probably the cheapest one, but Yahiko’s eyes widened.

“Whoa! I can keep this?” He gingerly held onto the streamer, running his fingers over the pale blue scales.

“Yeah, it’s yours! We’ll fly it outside after we eat.”

The rice cakes had been generously filled with red bean paste, and Sagara and Yahiko eagerly tackled their shares. As she tasted hers, Takani straightened her shoulders with pride. “Hm, not bad for my first attempt.”

Koshijiro bit into one, and the sweetness filled his mouth. It went well, with the green tea that his daughter had prepared. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, tucking it out of the way as she enjoyed the mochi. Sitting next to her, Himura curved his fingers around his cup, closing his eyes at the heat. Despite his injuries, he had still insisted on finding a vase for the flowers.

The wind picked up, just in time for Sagara to tie the carp to the laundry line. It was quickly sent aloft and wriggled as if it were swimming in place.

“The carp is symbolic, because it bravely fights against the current.” Koshijiro addressed Yahiko. “I also had one, when I was a boy, and like you, I dreamed of becoming a swordsman. But it is good to cherish the present. Today, we’ll celebrate your childhood.”

“Oh…thanks. At least, it’s only for a day.” Despite his bluster, he couldn’t seem to resist tapping the carp’s tail with a finger.

Himura smiled. “Is the streamer to your liking?”

“Yeah, I guess.” But his face broke into a grin. Kaoru noticed and ruffled his hair.

“Geez, be honest. This is fun!”

Yes, this had been a good idea. Watching them, Koshijiro felt content. He didn’t know it then, but this was probably the happiest they’d be for many weeks.


	11. May 14

The calendar had not been changed yet.

Koshijiro noticed this, as he was about to leave for the station. From today, it would be exactly one week since Minister Okubo and the commissioner had visited. At work, Fujita had not explained his injuries whatsoever, and the officers muttered hypothetical scenarios to each other. The wildest so far was that he had been attacked by a wolf. Fujita had heard that one and gave a mean-spirited laugh. Only Koshijiro understood the irony, because as a member of the Shinsengumi, the man was once a wolf of Mibu. But most of the time, Fujita was absent, probably on the next mission he was given.

In the Kamiya household, it had been calm. Their typical routine had continued, although Sagara and Takani were stopping by more often. Kaoru was now practicing with the naginata, testing Yahiko’s capabilities against a long-range weapon. And Himura seemed to be fine, if a little quieter.

_Minister Okubo should prepare to be disappointed._

With a slight tug, Koshijiro tore off the calendar’s page, so today’s date was properly shown.

May 14, 1878.

* * *

 

His prediction was given further support by the scene outside. Although they should have begun lessons, Kaoru and Yahiko were lingering in the yard. Sagara was madly pacing back and forth, circling the well and the tub of laundry. Amidst them, Himura was the picture of tranquility, and he even smiled as he lifted a spotless cloth from the soapy water.

“You’re not gonna accept, are you?! You can’t trust government officials.” Sagara was saying. “They only care about themselves.”

Himura chuckled. “So, you still despise the Meiji government.”

“I’m from the Sekihoutai, nothing wrong with that!”

“No. However, if Okubo-dono was corrupt and self-serving, then Saito would have killed him. This one knows you do not like him-”

There was a grumble from Yahiko. “Yeah, he’s rotten.”

Himura’s smile grew tight. “He holds a high standard of justice, and he believes wholeheartedly in the instant elimination of evil. It is also why he is hard to get along with…”

“Got that right.” Sagara scoffed.

Kaoru’s eyes darkened. “I hate him.”

Koshijiro hoped that somewhere, Fujita was sneezing his head off.

“Now then,” Himura stood and handed the tub of laundry to Yahiko. “Please hang these on the clothesline. This one will go to see Okubo-dono.”

Koshijiro took the opportunity to inform him. “He should be going to Akasaka, to meet with the Cabinet. Or at least, that is what Commissioner Kawaji told me yesterday.” The balding man hadn’t concealed his desperation, repeating that Shishio’s army was growing by the hour. Instead, Koshijiro had replied that if it was, then efforts would be better spent on mobilization.

“Thank you, Kamiya-dono.”

“Hello?” A voice sailed through the air, accompanied by light footsteps. Takani was rather cheerful, and she lifted one hand in a wave. “Oh, you’re still here. Good morning, Ken-san!” At her greeting, Sagara rolled his eyes, and she flashed him a glare before continuing. “Today’s the day, so I brought this!” With a flick of her other wrist, something flew from her sleeve. Chain links gleamed, and a leather loop slipped around Himura’s neck.

“Oro?”

“With a collar, Ken-san can’t go to Kyoto. I also brought sleeping powder, if it comes to that…”

Kaoru stepped in, visibly struggling to contain her irritation. “Thanks, but it isn’t necessary. And don’t you have patients?”

Starting the day like this was too much to handle. “Well, it’s time to leave for work.” Koshijiro muttered to himself.

During this exchange, Himura had unbuckled the collar and unceremoniously dropped it. As Takani gasped in protest, he walked towards the gate. “If Okubo-dono is in Akasaka, this one will meet him in Kioisaka to ease his journey. And this one will do so _alone_.”

The others looked as if they disagreed, but Kaoru lifted her chin and calmly said. “Kenshin, please return safely.”

He smiled. “Yes, Kaoru-dono.” Then, he turned to the road and disappeared from their sight. In retrospect, Koshijiro would remember Himura was wearing the red gi that had become his favorite.

“What if they’re going to ambush him and smuggle him to Kyoto?” Yahiko’s overactive imagination was on display.

Sagara scoffed. “Come on, have some faith. He could take on all of them.”

After a few minutes, it was clear Himura was gone and Koshijiro headed off. “I’ll see all of you at the end of the day.”

“Have a good day, Otou-san.” Kaoru said. Her earlier brave face had given way to a worried expression, and he gave her shoulder a quick, reassuring squeeze before he departed.

The morning’s delay meant that he had to walk briskly. He was focused on the path to the station, considering a shortcut when someone appeared in his peripheral vision. He did a double take. “Himura-san?”

Himura held up his hands in apology. “Ah, this one had taken a wrong turn, so this one will walk partway with you.”

“That’s fine. Would you like directions?”

“This one knows the way now.”

They walked in silence for about a block, before Himura said. “The woodpile is low, so this one will cut more when he returns.”

“Yes, that can wait. I hope your meeting with the minister goes well and that he respects your choice to hold to your vow.”

Himura’s jaw tensed. “In the fight with Jin-e, this one came close to breaking it.”

“Did you?”

“It was to protect Kaoru-dono. She was caught in the Shin no Ippou.”

Koshijiro furrowed his brow. “I didn’t hear about that before. This was the ‘mind trick’ that killed people, wasn’t it?”

He immediately responded. “Kaoru-dono did not want to worry you, and in the end, Jin-e killed himself so the danger was gone. She had a strong will and broke free from the technique.”

“But you were prepared to kill Jin-e if she hadn’t.”

“Yes. Her voice called this one back. It did not, when this one was fighting Saito. He was very close to achieving his goal. Despite ten years, this one still holds the madness of an assassin from the Bakumatsu. If such chaos begins again…” He trailed off.

“To me, it’s as if Minister Okubo is using you as a shield. He has wealth, connections, and resources. But to use them, he would have to acknowledge the existence of Shishio and thus, his sins of the past. You desire to be a good man, to learn from your mistakes. That should be your priority, before you try to atone for his mistakes as well.”

They paused at the intersection leading to Kioisaka. “Those are strong words, Kamiya-dono.”

“Well, it seemed like you needed another reminder, to be certain of yourself.”

“And thank you.” He was serious this time, and he bowed. “Until later, Kamiya-dono.”

“Until later.” Koshijiro echoed, and once again, he watched Himura leave.

At the station, work continued as usual. Fujita was out again, a stack of files in his stead. It was a quiet morning, and Koshijiro was in the middle of organizing his papers when the announcement came out. Chief Uramura usually bought a newspaper before his lunch break, and he was holding a fresh one, as he entered the room. His face was drained of color.

“Minister Okubo is dead.”

Koshijiro’s ears filled with white noise, and he shook his head just in time to hear the chief continue.

“He was assassinated, while traveling to Kioisaka this morning.” So, Himura never had the opportunity to meet with him. “The commissioner has ordered that all available and able-bodied men to be out on patrol.”

That did not include Koshijiro, but after the men filed out, he found he couldn’t concentrate on his tasks. It was the shock that a public murder could happen in broad daylight and that only a week ago, the minister had been speaking in the dojo. Now, he was gone and Koshijiro wondered how the loss of his leadership was affecting the Cabinet. Already, the people were concerned and their clamor seeped through the walls. Very slowly, the end of the day approached, and Koshijiro was about to quietly leave.

“Excuse me, is Kamiya-san here?” An unfamiliar man had entered. He wore a Western suit and he had a carefully trimmed mustache.

Koshijiro raised his eyebrows. “Yes, I am Kamiya.”

“Ah, I’m glad I caught you. I am Governor Yamayoshi from Fukushima; I was the last person to speak to Minister Okubo this morning.”

“My condolences. I was sorry to hear about his death.”

Yamayoshi nodded. “It is difficult right now. However, the reason that I’m here is that he mentioned you during our meeting.”

“I’m afraid I was rude to him and I sincerely regret that.” His last words to the minister had been of adamant refusal.

“I don’t think he took offense. In fact, he seemed to have great respect for you. He was surprisingly forthright, and he confided his plan for the country. He believed that the next ten years were crucial, to build Japan as a nation-state. His goal was to have a democratic government, so that the people could decide their own fates. His exact words were: ‘It will take thirty years, perhaps too long for Kamiya-san to appreciate, but if I meet him again, I hope that we can find compromise.’”

Koshijiro bowed his head. That wish would forever go unfulfilled. “Thank you for telling me this, I will pay my respects later. Please give my regards to his family.”

“Of course.” The conversation ended, and Yamayoshi opened the door for him. The sunset was the color of blood. Koshijiro could not help superimposing the swath of red onto the late minister.

* * *

At home, the pile of wood had doubled. It could only have been Himura who had cut enough for the week, yet no one had seen him. There was no other sign of his presence, and his shoes were gone. They did hear of Okubo’s assassination, and the atmosphere at the dinner table was somber. They were waiting for Himura to return.

“At least, whoever took out the minister didn’t get him.” Yahiko was focusing on the replenished woodpile. “He could be out drinking.”

“That sounds more like Sano than Kenshin.” Kaoru protested. “And Kenshin _will_ come back. He promised.”

Silence fell over them and lingered, until the dishes were cleared and Koshijiro suggested. “I’ll leave a lantern outside.”

The night air was cool, and he had just transferred the flame from a match when there was a rapid series of knocks. “Someone’s at the gate.” He alerted the others, and they dashed over in a mad scramble.

However, it wasn’t Himura but a young boy, who was fourteen or fifteen. His expression was full of urgency. “Please, my father’s collapsed! I heard that a doctor was here?”

Takani pushed forward, quietly inquiring about the father’s condition. “It sounds like appendicitis…I have to do an emergency surgery.” She sighed.

“I’ll escort you.” Sagara volunteered, and not even Takani could mask her surprise.

“Oh…thank you. Let’s go.”

“Take care.” Kaoru called out, and the three figures hurried off. A strong wind blew in their wake, sending green leaves cascading to the earth.

Another hour of waiting passed. Yahiko had tried in vain to stay awake, and now that he had fallen asleep, Kaoru draped a blanket over him. “I can’t sit still, I need some fresh air.”

“Don’t be out alone. I’ll go with you, to check around the house.”

“Okay.” She agreed. While she maintained a position near the sign for the dojo, he paced up and down the road. There was nothing to be found, but he was becoming very concerned that Himura had disappeared.

“I’m going to inspect the back, it should only take a minute.” It was mostly for his piece of mind, that their boarder was not lying injured in the vicinity.

“Do you want to take the lantern?”

“I know my way. Shout if anything happens.”

The grass rustled with every step, but that was the only noise. Upon closer inspection, any foreign shape turned out to be a shrub. A gust swept through while he walked on. Koshijiro watched as a firefly blinked into existence, then another, until their numbers rivaled the falling leaves.

He circled around to the front gate, and noticed that Kaoru was on her knees, facing the road. Further down, Koshijiro caught a silhouette just before it melted in the darkness. He ran over to his daughter, helping her up. “Was that Himura-san?”

Kaoru nodded once and whispered. “He’s gone, Otou-san. He left. For good.”

He couldn’t hide his surprise. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“He was going to become a rurouni again, and…he said goodbye.” She clutched herself, gripping her own arms. “He’s going to Kyoto, to stop Shishio.”

_If such chaos begins again…_

With Okubo’s death, that was much more likely. Himura must have thought he had to interfere, even though he did not want to break his vow. It was a shame.

“Kaoru…”

She hiccupped. “I’m sorry, Otou-san. I think I have to sleep.”

“Yes, it’s been a long day. We can talk it over tomorrow.”

Before he led her inside, he glanced one last time into the night. Only the fireflies were present, their lights strangely sad and cold.

* * *

The next morning, Kaoru was feverish and unable to leave her bed. Perspiration glittered on her forehead, and her eyes were glazed over with delirium. Feeling alarmed, Koshijiro summoned for Takani to examine her. But after ten minutes, the doctor was already repacking her bag.

“It’s stress. There are no signs of infection, so medicine won’t help.” Takani stated with complete authority. “Just give her time.”

“Thank you, Takani-san.”

The gate abruptly slammed, as Sagara stormed into the yard. “Bastard! Asshole! He’s really gone. How could he leave like that? Without saying goodbye?”

Now that Koshijiro recalled, Himura had only said goodbye to one person…and that was Kaoru.

“That’s it, I’m going!”

“Where?” Yahiko’s forehead creased.

“To Kyoto! I’m his right hand man, I have to be there when he needs help. He should have taken the Tokaido road, so I’ll catch up to him.”

“Good luck with that.” Takani delivered a parting shot.

“I will. And I’ll haul him back after this is over. You can count on me.” He nodded, as if reaffirming his resolve. “I’ll get supplies in town and stop by the Akabeko to tell Yahiko. Give my regards to Jou-chan. See ya!”

“Have a safe trip.” Koshijiro hoped that he knew where he was going. “Don’t hesitate to ask around if you need directions.”

“Come on, old man, I know that.”

“Oh, here.” Takani exasperatedly threw a bundle, and he caught it with ease. “That has enough bandages and salve for your next injury. Be careful with your shoulder.”

“Thanks, fox. I’ll see ya in a month or two!” With a wide grin, he gave a two-fingered salute and didn’t look back. Takani left afterwards, saying that she would visit the next day.

Koshijiro laid a damp cloth on Kaoru’s forehead. Her eyelashes stirred, but she didn’t wake.

“I’m back.” Yahiko called out. His footsteps grew louder and he opened the door to Kaoru’s room. “How is she?”

“Still not well. Did Sagara-san tell you he left?”

“Yeah, he did. I followed him because I thought he didn’t say goodbye to everyone. He visited Tsunan again, he got some money and stuff. Then, he fought Saito or Fujita or whoever he is. The police officer thought he was only going to weigh Kenshin down. But Sano’s stubborn, so he got a few strikes in. He’s on his way to getting even stronger, lucky him.”

There was a lot to unpack in those few sentences, especially the fight with Fujita, but Koshijiro decided that it all paled in comparison to his daughter’s well-being. “Well…I’m glad it all worked out.”

“Me too.” With a huff, he seated himself next to Kaoru’s futon. “She’s gotta eat something later. I can’t cook though. Can you?”

“Not even with two hands.”

“Hmm. We need help.”

They didn’t have to search very far. In the evening, Tae and Tsubame stopped by, to provide food and company for Kaoru. By then, she could sit up, and Koshijiro brought out the small table they had used for meals when Kyoko was bedridden. There were bento boxes for Yahiko and Koshijiro, and a small clay pot for Kaoru.

“Tsubame cooked the porridge. She did an excellent job.” Tae beamed, while the younger girl blushed.

“It’s not much.” She shyly said.

Kaoru tried a spoonful. “It’s good, thank you.” After another, she paused. Koshijiro flashed her an anticipatory expression, and didn’t lift his chopsticks again until she continued eating. Gradually, she finished most of her share, and Tsubame offered to wash the dishes. Yahiko tagged along, claiming he had to check their current stock of ingredients. It was rather obvious that he wanted to talk to her.

“Please feel better soon, Kaoru.” Tae folded her hands in her lap. “Is there anything else you need?”

“…um, just the outhouse.” She slipped free of the covers. “I’ll be right back.” Her steps were barely audible, and her form seemed terribly small.

Koshijiro didn’t feel angry at Himura, he could understand why the man had to stop the threat. It was just unfortunate for everyone else involved, and he didn’t know how he could fix any of it.

_It’s only been a day, but it feels so long._

“We were so surprised to hear that Kenshin left. I thought he would stay for good…” Tae trailed off. “It was right for us to visit.”

“We’re very grateful, although if you’ll excuse me, I have some work to take care of.” Given that it was a family emergency, he had permission to take reports home for the week.

“Of course. We’ll stay until Kaoru falls asleep.”

He was about to exit, when his attention was drawn to the corner of the room. There were two cloth dolls, propped up against each other. He recognized one of the dolls, a miniature replica of his daughter. Ever since she was very young, she usually had a sewing piece, and he and Kyoko had encouraged her little projects. This doll was the latest he knew of; she had finished its kimono, before he left for Satsuma. But the other one…

“That’s a doll version of Himura-san.” He said in disbelief. It was even wearing a little red gi! “When did that get there?”

“Oh, well,” Tae’s eyes nervously darted back and forth. “About two months ago, Kaoru _did_ mention she had a new sewing project.”

The stitched round eyes stared at him. “Perhaps, we should take it away. It would only remind her that he’s gone.”

“She’ll notice if you do. And what if it comforts her?”

He couldn’t see how, but his daughter _would_ probably notice if the doll was missing. In the end, he pretended he had never seen it.

Kaoru’s fever broke by midnight, and the following day, she seemed perfectly healthy. She had made breakfast, and the overdone fish caused Yahiko to stick out his tongue. She hung the laundry out to dry and waxed the dojo’s floor. Overall, she was keeping busy.

She was keeping quiet. She insisted that she was fine, but she had acquired a perpetual slight frown. Whenever the gate opened, she automatically whipped around and slumped in the next second, obviously disappointed. She seemed to be enduring each day, up and about but without her usual enthusiasm.

After six days, it was clear her melancholy only had one cure. Koshijiro couldn’t ignore it, so he had formulated an idea, rethinking it over and over.

_It’s far from ideal, but if it can make her feel better, it would be worth it. It’s worth it._

***

That afternoon, he peered into the dojo, using the wall to shield the rest of his body. “Kaoru, Yahiko, I’d like to speak with both of you.”

According to Yahiko, lessons had been adequate, but his teacher had been ‘spacey’. He was right. Kaoru slowly turned her gaze towards the open door. “Oh. After this kata.”

“We just finished it.” Yahiko nudged her.

“I guess we did, huh?” Her nervous laugh didn’t settle right with Koshijiro.

They set aside their shinai and gear, following Koshijiro to the dining table. The whole time, he held his arm close to his body. When they were all seated, he released his armful onto the table.

A coin purse and wallet. A map. And three train tickets. He pointed to them first.

“These are tickets from Shimbashi Station to Yokohama. It will take about one hour, before we reach the port city.” He unfolded the map, and traced the coastline with one finger. “Then, from Yokohama to Kobe, it will be three days at most. At Kobe, we will pay for tickets to take the new train line to Kyoto.”

“We’re going to Kyoto?” Yahiko blurted. “Really?”

“Yes. I heard from a colleague that it will be two hours, so if you’re seasick, we can stay the night in Kobe and travel in the morning to the Shirobeko, which the Sekihara family runs. I’ve calculated it, and this amount of money should be more than enough. If it isn’t, Sekihara-san said that her sister would appreciate extra hands at the Shirobeko. You can help out, to repay them for your stay while I’m gone.”

“While you’re gone?”

“I can’t leave my job for too long, Kaoru.”

“R-right.” She looked over the items again. “But…are you okay with leaving us in Kyoto?”

If he had to be honest, he was not totally comfortable with the situation. However, for their sakes, he couldn’t neglect his professional responsibilities for more than a week. He had to trust his daughter and Yahiko would be safe at the Shirobeko. That would be the hardest part, but instead, he asked. “The question is, are you sure of yourself? Kyoto is a large city, you may not find Himura-san.” _You might never meet him again_ , he thought but didn’t voice it.

Kaoru straightened, and some of the fire had returned to her eyes. “I am. I want to see him, and I want to bring him home.”

“That’s right! No more excuses.” Yahiko vigorously nodded. “You’re the only one Kenshin said goodbye to, it was hardest for him to part with you. So you have the best chance of bringing him back, right?”

“I’ll definitely try.”

And so, they prepared to depart. The dim morning sun and Takani saw them off at the train station. “I’ll keep an eye on the dojo while you’re gone.”

“Thank you, Takani-san.” Koshijiro said. “And please, thank Dr. Gensai for informing me about the new train line to Kyoto.”

“Certainly.”

“Do you want a souvenir?” Yahiko offered.

“That’s quite the loaded question!” She tittered, and coyly, she hid her smile behind her sleeve.

“Is that all you have to say?” Kaoru furrowed her brow.

“Oh, please. I just woke up so early this morning so I could laugh at all of you.” However, she handed over a small container, its surface painted with a flower pattern. “This is a medicine developed by my family. I’m sure Ken-san will be injured, so give it to him when you meet him.”

“You could come with us, to Kyoto.” Her tone was a little grudging, but her eyes were honest.

“No. Ken-san showed me that to live on, I need to atone. I can only do that as a doctor.” She paused. “It was hard for me, not to hear him say goodbye at all. You’re fortunate.”

“Megumi-” Kaoru started, but then, the train began to move forward, and Takani vanished into the crowd. “She wanted to go to Kyoto.”

“But she has a duty to care for her patients.” Koshijiro reminded her.

“I know.” Outside, the trees had blurred together. “She said I was fortunate, yet I didn’t think so at first. When he said goodbye, I felt like I was chained from head to toe. But not anymore. Now, I understand. I’m through with being sad, I want to keep moving forward. That’s what the master of Kamiya Kasshin would do.”

“Well said.” He leaned into the cushioned seating, and for the first time in a week, he contentedly closed his eyes.

The journey was like a whirlwind, and Yahiko may have vomited into the sea once or twice, but after a night of rest in Kobe, they arrived in Kyoto. It wasn’t Koshijiro’s first time in the city; however, it was his first during peacetime. This clamoring, mundane Kyoto was nothing like how it had been in his memories of the battle of Toba Fushimi. Of gunpowder, shouts, and fresh blood…

“Are they speaking Chinese?” Yahiko’s wide eyes were focused on three girls cooing over a dog and chattering amongst themselves.

“Yahiko, don’t stare.” Kaoru admonished and steered him away. Despite her best efforts, her attention was also drawn to the new sights and sounds.

“The Shirobeko should be this way.” Koshijiro adhered to the directions Tae had provided, and in ten minutes, the building loomed over them. It was quite similar to its sister restaurant, and he did feel somewhat better, seeing their accommodations in person. Sae and the staff were pleasant, eagerly welcoming them. The guest room was clean and neat. There was nothing to find fault with, except in Koshijiro’s own reluctance.

“How are you going to find him? I refuse to let you wander into the street and ask complete strangers.”

“Otou-san, don’t be ridiculous. We’ll put up flyers.”

“Yeah, good ones.” Yahiko chimed in. “Red hair and scar and everything. He’s hard to forget.”

“And what if Shishio’s men come here?” He mulled over it. “That settles it. I’ll send you the shinai, bokken, and practice naginata. And your uniforms. However, don’t engage them, it’s too dangerous. You should only use what you have to defend and run away.”

“Otou-san…” But his daughter didn’t sound angry.

They saw him off at the train station, yet Koshijiro wasn’t finished. “One more thing. I would like to receive an update every week, by letter. It may only be a sentence or two, but as long as I know you’re alive and well, I’ll be at ease.”

“It’ll definitely be a page, at least.” Kaoru promised. “We’ll both write. Yahiko needs to practice his kanji anyway.”

“Ugh.” He made a disgruntled expression. “Fine.”

Koshijiro exhaled. “Then, this is where we part. I wish I could stay.” He couldn’t help adding.

That seemed to increase Kaoru’s concern. “Will you be alright, Otou-san? You’ll be alone in Tokyo.”

“I’ll manage.” He clasped her shoulder. “But most of all, I want you to be like yourself again. And…I also think Himura-san wants to be home.”

“I think so too.” Then, she smiled, a true one. He had missed her happy face. She flung her arms around him, in a tight embrace. “Thank you. Really.”

“Be good.” He gruffly said, and after she pulled away, he gave a pointed look to Yahiko. “Yahiko, I trust that you’ll be responsible.”

“I will.” The boy grinned. “I want to see Kenshin too. We’ll get him back.”

The conductor called for the passengers to board, and he chose a seat beside the window, so they could watch him leave.

“Write!” He reiterated.

“We will!”

Then, the train picked up speed, and he craned his head out the window. He kept his eyes wide open, burning the sight of their waving figures into his memory.

* * *

The return trip was lonely but smooth, and when he crossed the gate at last, Takani had just arrived.

“Thank you for watching the house.”

“It’s not a problem. I’d be happy to do it again, if you want to visit them.”

He doubted that would be before his next paycheck. The travel fees had dealt a hefty hit to their finances. “I’ll consider it. Please, have some tea.”

She opened the dojo’s doors. “Tea would be nice- _no!_ ” Her goodbye morphed into a bitten off scream, and Koshijiro looked past her to see the flash of two blades, in the hands of a tall figure approaching Takani. She collapsed, trembling.

“Where is he? Battousai?” Shinomori Aoshi stalked out of the dojo. Somehow, he had broken in.

Takani shook her head. To her, the man was associated with her former exploiter, and she was rightfully terrified. Koshijiro stepped between them, meeting Shinomori’s flat gaze.

“Are you asking me to kill you?”

Koshijiro did not answer him. He knew very little about Shinomori, and any wrong move could set him off.

A voice drawled from the gate. “You’re too late, he’s on his way to Kyoto by now.” Fujita pulled a lit cigarette from his mouth, letting the smoke escape into the air. He marched over to them with a grimace.

Shinomori tilted his head. “And you are?”

“Fujita Goro. A policeman. Since you’ve been holed up in the mountains, I’ll bring you up to speed. Himura Battousai has gone to Kyoto, to defeat Shishio Makoto.”

“If that’s so, I’ll come again when he has returned.”

“Maybe he never will, if Shishio kills him first.”

“No. I am the only one who will kill Battousai.” With utter confidence, he strode out. A tense minute followed.

“He’s gone. Hm…” Fujita had an unbelievably thoughtful expression.

“Why did you tell him that? He’ll kill Ken-san!” Takani hissed. “And Kaoru and Yahiko are in Kyoto!”

“Kyoto’s a large city, and they’re not his targets.” Fujita shrugged, and Koshijiro desperately wanted to shake him. “We have greater concerns at hand. Shishio’s army is marching upon villages, at least ten have fallen to his control. Dissenters are executed, and all the policemen I’ve sent have retreated.”

Koshijiro clenched his teeth together. “And so, the army would be helpless as well?”

“It hasn’t even been a year since we suppressed the rebellion in Satsuma. If we need to use the army against our own citizens again, how would that look to the rest of the world? Also, no one in the Cabinet wants to share Minister Okubo’s fate. How can you prevent an assassination? That’s why people like Himura and I are necessary, and why we could use Shinomori. Don’t you understand?”

“Of course. I only lost my arm, not my mind.” Koshijiro curtly said.

“You could have fooled me.” He thrust a slip of paper to Koshijiro. “Check on this address occasionally, in my absence. I’m going to Kyoto, to make sure Himura does his job.”

 _And to keep Shinomori at bay, if it comes to that,_ Koshijiro thought. He read over the paper; the address was in a residential area. “I assume this is the location of your family.”

“That’s for you to find out.” He raised a gloved hand in parting. “Goodbye.” He didn’t even wait for a reply, closing the gate behind him.

“What a frustrating man.” Takani pursed her lips. “Are you going to that address?”

“Perhaps.” But first, he had to make his own house more secure. No one else would be breaking in or making unwanted entrances.


End file.
